Of Love and Hate: A Tale of ArchNemeses
by petrelli heiress
Summary: Peter/Sylar. Merlin/Arthur. Peter and Sylar are battling to the death when there is an earthquake. Peter teleports himself and Sylar...back in time...guess where?
1. Prologue: Arch Nemeses

**Author's Note: Completely AU. Years after the events of Heroes and Merlin. Arthur and Merlin are secretly dating. Gwen and Morgana know about it. Peter and Sylar are arch-nemeses. But not for long... This first chapter isn't very long and deals mainly with the Heroes 'verse. But don't worry, Merlin fans. **

**SLASH! So if you don't like...don't read. Simple, isn't it?**

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"You will not get away this time, Peter Petrelli," Sylar said, his hands filling with blue fireballs.

"Um, actually, _you're _the one not getting away, Sylar," Peter replied, casually throwing an orange fireball in the air.

Silence from that oh-so hot and yet oh-so annoying serial killer. Wait. What?

Sylar took advantage of the distraction caused by Peter's treacherous thoughts by throwing those very ready fireballs in his direction.

Peter tried not to scream as the fireballs consumed him. It would be over in a few seconds...there. Phew. He shook off a few residual pieces of soot and then threw the orange fireball hard in Sylar's direction.

Peter watched Sylar as he was consumed by said fireball. He too did not scream. Peter yawned. This was getting pretty boring. But then when your arch-nemesis was able to regenerate just as you were fighting was bound to become a little stilted. Well...Peter watched Sylar shake off soot. Maybe more than a little.

Sylar threw Peter across the room with his telekinetic powers. Oh. He'd forgotten about that one. From his crumpled position on the floor he saw Hiro and Ando trying to beat back Adam while Claire and Nathan fought off the newly revived Elle.

Sylar walked leisurely over to his fallen arch-nemesis, stepping past Matt and Mohinder in the world's first bitch fight using only the powers of the mind. He felt glad that all he had to do was beat up Peter. Poor Matt.

He grabbed Peter by the collar and pushed him up the wall. "Well, well, well. Looky what we have here. It's not..._no!_ It can't be. Peter Petrelli, self-professed pacifist and all-time good guy. Tell me, what would your adoring public think of you now?"

Peter gasped out, "Personally I think some of them would be turned on."

Sylar's deep brown eyes narrowed and, with only that small warning, he threw Peter across the room, right over a pissed-looking Lyle and a horn-rimmed-glasses-less Noah fighting to the death. Before Peter could right himself Sylar was just inches away.

He opened his mouth, obviously meaning to speak (I highly doubt anything else was going through his mind at that moment...although Peter's mind was surprisingly dirty), when the world ended.

Well...almost. Really, it was just an earthquake. A pretty big one, in any case. Enough to make Peter automatically reach out and grab Sylar before teleporting them to safety. So, yeah. Pretty big.

Of course, when they found themselves lying on top of each other, on a hay stack, being gaped at by a peasant girl carrying what looked like a pail of milk, Peter wished that maybe he could have died in that earthquake. Why did he have to be such a goody two shoes?


	2. Problems

**Okay, I don't own anything. Nada. Zip. Except, of course, the idea for this story. **

**Merlin/Arthur. Peter/Sylar. SLASH! If you don't like it don't read it. Simple...**

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Sylar grabbed Peter around the waist. "Teleport us out of here, nancy boy!"

Peter decided to let that 'nancy boy' comment slide. Instead he concentrated on getting them the hell out of there. After a few minutes Peter opened his eyes. "Did it work?" he whispered.

"Uh, no, you pansy! Try harder!" Sylar yelled.

Peter tried harder. Didn't work. "It's not working."

Sylar rolled his eyes and glared. "Well, I can _see_ that, you dipshit. I have _eyes_!"

"Um, excuse me?"

Both men looked up from their position on the hay stack. The peasant girl had switched her mouth from the gaping position to a talking one. "So, um, how exactly did you get...here?" she asked, waving her hand vaguely to encompass the barn.

Sylar snorted and got to his feet. "Like we're really going to tell you," he said, the acid in his tone capable of burning through any material, it seemed.

Surprisingly the girl did not seem deterred. She smiled vaguely then said, "Because you better watch out. Magic's banned in this country. If you're caught using it you...sort of...well...get put to death. Painful, I'm told."

It was Peter's turn to snort. "Magic doesn't exist. Everyone knows that."

The girl nodded as though trying to calm them down. "Right. So...what are your names?"

"I'm Peter Petrelli and this is..."

Sylar interrupted Peter with, "...Gabriel Gray. Pleased to meet you." He shook her hand.

Peter glanced sideways at his arch-nemesis. Who knew Sylar's real name was Gabriel? Ironic, that.

The girl tried to quell a laugh. "I'm...Rachel." She gazed at them for a moment. "PP and GG? Are you kidding me?"

Peter and Sylar glanced at each other. "Um, no," Peter answered. He heard Sylar's stray thought – _This girl's weird_ – and couldn't help but agree with him. That was a first.

"Who're your friends, Rachel?"

The girl and the two men glanced towards the main entrance of the barn. A young man stood there, hands casually in pockets.

"If I'd known you were going to bring two such fine men I'd have come sooner." He grinned.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Merlin. They just appeared in the barn a few minutes ago. Time travellers, by the look of it."

Rachel and Merlin glanced at the two men. Yep, definitely time travellers. "Well, they should just time travel their way back to wherever they came from," Merlin said. "You know how weird the king is about magic and the like."

Peter spoke up. "Uh, magic doesn't exist..."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Oh no. Not that new fangled science thing. When are they going to get a clue? Bloody genetics."

Sylar gazed at Merlin with hunger in his eyes. He could sense the power emanating from this strange young man. What he wouldn't give to examine his brain...

His thoughts were abruptly terminated by a shove in the side by Peter, who had felt the Hunger years ago and knew what it looked like. "None of that," he said softly. "We have to blend in until we find a way home. That means no killing."

Sylar glared angrily in the direction of his arch-nemesis. What he wouldn't give to snap that bastard's neck...Oh, wait. He could do that. So he did.

Rachel and Merlin watched in horror as Peter slumped to the ground. And then in astonishment as Peter's neck snapped back to its original position and he stood up. He glared over at Sylar, who couldn't help but smirk. "What did you do that for?"

"That," Rachel began, and the two men turned in her direction with almost identical apprehensive looks on their faces. "...was so...cool! Do it again!" She jumped up and down in childish glee.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Ignore her. She's sometimes a little...weird. Anyway, to get to the point: who the hell are you?"

"Well, um..." Peter pushed his hair out of his face. He didn't know why he'd never had it cut. Probably because of that one time...with the Company. He shuddered at the memory. "It's kind of a long story..."

_Two hours later..._

"So..." Merlin began. "What you're telling me is that you're this sort of...sponge thing that like to help people and that he is a super powered serial killer who likes to poke around people's brains and steal their powers and you hate each other. That's it?"

Peter and Sylar nodded in unison. "That's it." Peter couldn't help adding, "Yeah, definitely hate each other. Couldn't be anything else." Sylar decided to ignore that comment.

Merlin shook his head. "And I thought I had problems..." he murmured.

**So...your thoughts? Like? Dislike? Loath with a fiery passion? Read and review, please. Virtual cookies all around. **


	3. Plans

**Okay, it's not very long but I didn't want to introduce...someone and then go back to what I'd just written. It ends better this way. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or Heroes. If I did, well, things would be different, wouldn't they? I wouldn't have to write disclaimers, for one thing. **

**Warning: SLASH! Don't like, don't read. Simple. **

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"Explain to me again why we're going to a place where we could, potentially, die in?" Peter asked Merlin as he, Sylar and Rachel walked towards Camelot. "'Cause even though I can't exactly die I still don't want to go through it. It really hurts," he added, trying unsuccessfully not to whine.

"Stop whining, you moron," Sylar replied before Merlin could reply. "Do you _want _me to kill you again?"

Peter just rolled his eyes. Even though Sylar was maybe the hottest guy he'd ever seen, he really didn't have much imagination when it came to insults. Wait. What? _Hottest guy he'd ever seen_? What was he thinking? Was this maybe a side effect of the whole time travelling thing? But no, he'd been having these thoughts for awhile. He _really _didn't like them.

Merlin hid a smirk. "Actually I don't know. It was Rachel's idea."

Rachel shrugged when she felt the three young men's thoughts on her. "Well, since His Royal Majesty would never suspect that magicians, sorcerers and the like would hide in the castle I thought, why not hide in plain sight? It certainly worked for you," she added, smiling at Merlin.

"But how exactly are we going to explain their presence to Uther?" Merlin asked.

Rachel stopped suddenly and glared at him. "Well, I can't think of _everything_."

Sylar spoke up. "Why don't we pretend we're noblemen? I'm sure he'd let noblemen stay in the castle."

Merlin shook his head. "I've sort of tried that before. Didn't work out."

"Did you use a known...family or whatever?" he asked.

"Um, yes. Why?"

Sylar snorted. "Well, of course you were found out. Why not just make up one, someone from a far away country? Like maybe Sir Peter and Sir Gabriel of the House of...I don't know..."

"Brooklyn?" Peter suggested. And then waited for his idea to be shot down.

It did not happen. Instead Sylar looked at Peter with something akin to surprise in his eyes. "That's actually not a bad idea. You know," he added. "You're not as dumb as you look."

"Why, thank for _so _much for that," Peter replied, the sarcasm evident in his tone.

As they continued their trek towards Camelot Rachel whispered to Merlin, "You know, they act a lot like you and Arthur."

"We _do not _act like they do," Merlin whispered fiercely back.

Rachel hid a smirk.

_Meanwhile..._

"Do you think, maybe, we should stop them from reaching Camelot? 'Cause it can be done, milord, if you wish it." Henry tried to speak to his master while at the same time not looking at him. He'd perfected the talent over time.

"No, Henry, leave them be. With any luck Uther will take care of them for us. And, if he doesn't...well, the game will be that more interesting, won't it?"

Galahad, future son of Sir Lancelot and a man driven mad by a different time, smiled wryly and moved a chess piece on the board in front of him.

"Check."

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**Surprised? I promise I'll explain the whole time-travelling thing...soon, hopefully. Anyway, read and review. Hope you enjoyed.**


	4. Cryptic

**Author's Note: Thanks to those people who reviewed. Finally I put up another chapter. Got a bit carried away with my Song series...anyway, hope you enjoy. Read and review, as always.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin. **

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Arthur looked at Merlin. "How many times do I have to tell you that you're an idiot before it finally sinks in?"

Merlin shrugged. "At least twice more, I'd say. And anyway, it wasn't my idea. It was Rachel's."

Rachel snorted. "Oh yes, blame me. Very mature."

Arthur shook his head in mock sadness and then turned towards the two strangers. He looked them up and down. "So, you two are some sort of...sorcerers, are you?"

Peter blinked and was about to answer in the negative when Sylar interrupted him. "That's right, _sire_," he replied, emphasising the 'sire' in what was evidently meant to be a sarcastic tone. "Very powerful ones too."

Arthur looked at Sylar for a moment, a thoughtful expression playing across his face. Then he turned to Merlin. "My father will not be very pleased, Merlin. You know what he thinks of magic."

"I know...but we have a plan."

As Merlin and Rachel explained the plan to Arthur, Peter sidled over to Sylar and whispered harshly in his ear, "Why did you tell them we were sorcerers? You _know _magic doesn't exist."

Sylar looked at Peter with pity in his dark eyes. "You really are stupid, Peter. I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Peter, having no clever comeback, simply glared at him. Sylar grinned.

"So, let me get this straight. You're going to use magic to forge a document that says that these two are noblemen from some far off land? And you think this is going to work?" Arthur looked incredibly sceptical. He remembered Lancelot and what Merlin had said he had done to help him.

"Pretty much, yeah," Merlin answered. "Why? Do you see something we missed?"

"Ah, yes! Look at them!" he said, pointing at Peter and Sylar. "They don't even look like they're from around here!"

Merlin smiled, a crafty look in his eyes. "Exactly."

Arthur blinked. A smile crept across his face. "Oh."

***

"Father, may I present to you Sir Peter and Sir Gabriel from the House of Brooklyn. They come to us from the far off land of America," Arthur said. Very grandly, Merlin thought.

Uther immediately looked suspicious. "Do they have papers?"

Arthur smiled. He produced them with a flourish and handed them to Uther, who perused them, trying to find some evidence of forgery. He couldn't. He decided to show them to Geoffrey later. For now he smiled and accepted the two strange knights into Camelot.

"That went well," Merlin said to Peter and Sylar.

Peter shook his head. "He's going to show the papers to someone. He thinks they're a forgery." Sylar nodded. He'd felt that telltale tingle when Uther had spoken. The king was lying.

"Well, technically they _are _a forgery," Merlin said, with a grin. "Now, don't do anything that might expose you. Like...trying to kill each other. People don't like it."

Sylar pouted. "Spoil my fun, why don't you."

Uther gave the papers to Geoffrey to look over. He found nothing wrong with them. Uther took his word for it but still remained suspicious. Something about those two gave him the wiggins...

Everything went perfectly to plan. The only problem with the plan was that it said that they were brothers. This meant they had to share a room. For all its spaciousness the castle did not have many rooms to give away. Peter did not like this one bit for reason he'd rather not say.

That night, both trying to keep to the edges of the bed, the Dragon called out. Both bolted up right.

"What the hell was that?" Sylar whispered fiercely. Peter shook his head and then got out of bed and pulled on his shoes.

"What are you doing?" Sylar hissed, following Peter's example.

"Going to investigate," Peter answered, now at the door. He peered out and, seeing no one there, stepped out.

From behind him Sylar muttered about stupid empaths who don't know when to use their brains. He followed him anyway. What? He was curious.

They followed the Dragon's call down through the castle and, it seemed, into the bowers of the earth. Sylar wondered why there were no guards. When they passed the cells he saw why: no one to guard.

They came out onto a ledge. The Dragon stood a few metres away, gazing at them with a twinkle in his eyes.

Peter's eyes widened and he grabbed into Sylar's sleeve. "Sylar!" he whisper-exclaimed. "It's a dragon!"

Sylar rolled his eyes, pretending he wasn't as awed as Peter so obviously was. "No shit, Sherlock."

The Dragon rumbled. It took Peter and Sylar awhile to realise that that meant he was laughing.

"You two are a long way from home," the Dragon said.

"Yeah, about a thousand years and a million kilometres from it actually. What of it?" Sylar snapped.

The Dragon rumbled again. "There is a reason for you being here."

Sylar snorted. "Yeah, Peter's an idiot."

Peter glared. "Hey!"

The Dragon had never laughed this much in years. "You were meant to come here. You are meant to save these people. You and the young prince and warlock."

It was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh, not this again."

"A great evil is coming," the Dragon said, rising from his position. "You must put aside your differences if you are to defeat it." He flew off to wherever he flew off to when he went away.

Peter sighed.

"At least there are no paintings this time," Sylar said sympathetically. Then he berated himself for ever sympathising with his arch-nemesis.

"Very true. God, why do they always have to be so cryptic?" Peter asked the empty air.

Sylar nodded and patted Peter on the shoulder. "I feel your pain." Then he berated himself again for ever actually showing sympathy for his arch-nemesis. He put it down to not getting enough sleep.

_Meanwhile..._

Morgana woke with a gasp, sweat running down her forehead. Such images had run through her head that night. Nothing like she'd ever had. Blood and fire and beheading...

She shuddered and decided to go see Merlin and Gaius. They would know what to do...

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**Look! I brought Morgana and the Dragon into it! Woo! **

**Anyway, review please. Happiness. **


	5. Trouble

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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Morgana was recounting her dream to Gaius when Peter and Sylar came in. They hadn't been able to sleep so they'd decided to explore the castle. Well, Sylar had. Peter, if pressed, would have said he tagged along to keep Sylar out of trouble. In truth, there was really nothing else to do.

When she saw them Morgana's eyes widened. "Them!" she exclaimed, pointing at Peter and Sylar. "They were in my dreams!"

Peter shuddered. Oh, god. Not again.

Gaius tried, with some success, to calm Morgana down. "Yes, dear. Now tell me exactly what happened in your dreams?"

Morgana, semi-reassured by Gaius' apparent acceptance of the two men (Merlin had told him everything before he left for Arthur's room), settled back into her chair. She took a deep breath and began again. "I usually just get images. And I did. But there were also...somehow...scenes. Without sounds...That man," she said, pointing at Sylar, "His head on the block, the axe swinging down...And another man, sad and...completely nuts at the same time..." She shook her head to clear it and smiled at Gaius. "Probably nothing, right?"

Gaius smiled at her gently. "Do you want the potion, Morgana? You shouldn't try to suppress your visions but there is always a choice."

Morgana held out her hand and, with a sigh, Gaius gave her one of the vials put aside especially for her. Before she left she whispered in Peter's ear, "Two sides of the same coin."

Peter merely looked confused. Future people were always so darn cryptic.

Sylar, rather than worry about the premonition of his own death, sat down and grabbed a piece of fruit from the pile on the table. "So, what was that about?"

"Morgana is a seer," Gaius said, tiredly. "Which means she can..."

"...see the future," Sylar finished. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I was talking to Peter. What did she mean, 'two sides of the same coin'?"

Peter shrugged, trying to tell Gaius silently not to be offended by Sylar's abrupt manner. "How the hell should I know?"

Gaius didn't appear to be receiving his mental messages and was about to throw Sylar out when Peter got there before him.

"You really have no manners," Peter said as the door was slammed in their faces. "And you call me an idiot."

Sylar munched on his fruit, oblivious to his bad manners. "That's because you are, Peter."

Peter merely rolled his eyes.

***

Sylar walked through the town of Camelot. Peter had gone off somewhere. He didn't really care where. Well, okay, he did. Not that he'd ever tell Peter that.

A commotion pulled his attention away from distracting thoughts of Peter and onto a three squires picking on a young girl. He frowned as they pushed and pulled at the girl's clothes with merry looks on their faces.

"Stop it!" the girl was shouting. This had been what had directed Sylar's attention to the scene in the first place.

"Aw, come on, sweetheart!" one of the squires said, pressing his lips against hers and then breaking away. "You should take this as a compliment. You're just too good to pass up!" The other two sniggered and moved in for a taste.

The first squire, followed quickly by the other two, flew across the square to land hard against the wall and to the slide slowly down, groaning in pain.

Sylar, a hard look in his eyes, moved towards the girl, now huddled near the ground. He put a hand on her shoulder and she flinched away. "Don't!" she yelled, half crazed from desperation and unaware of her surroundings. "Leave me alone!"

Through the haze of his anger Sylar became aware of the crowd that had gathered whispering around him. He caught words such as magic, sorcery and warlock and knew he was in trouble. Damn.

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**Okay, I'm sorry that the chapters are always so short but, well, no I'm not. Anyway, yeah Morgana knows she's a seer. The scene with the three guys attacking the girl was inspired (urgh, not a good word) by one of my lectures and also an episode of Buffy. Anyway...review, please. **


	6. Visits

**Author's Note: Thanks to queenoftheoutlands who helped me come up with the idea of a Pylar scene in the prison. Unfortunately there is no...but I give away too much. Read on and enjoy. And also review. Please. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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The one time he did something good. The one time. It blew up in his face. Peter was going to be _so_ pissed with him. And somehow that just didn't sound as enjoyable as it once would have.

He let the guards lead him away. No use trying to escape. He'd seen enough movies to know that only made you guiltier. Huh! Innocent until proven guilty. Yeah, right.

The cell they put him into was...surprisingly big. This actually turned out to be a bad thing. The floor was very messy and smelt rather foul. He tried to stay as close to the bars as possible.

Sylar was right. Peter _was _pissed. He couldn't believe Sylar could be that _stupid_. Using his powers in a public place? Could he be even more of an idiot?

And then, as Peter began seeing red, Merlin told him why Sylar had used his powers. All of his anger vanished. What was left was confusion. Sylar...had _saved _someone? This just didn't sound like the Sylar he knew. And for some reason hearing that Sylar had done something good for once made him feel very happy.

Peter had been talking to Arthur when Merlin had rushed in with the news. Arthur had frowned and strode out of the room to talk with his father. Uther was not pleased to see his son.

"The man was seen using magic, Arthur," Uther said before his son could say a word.

"To save a girl!" Arthur shouted. Nobles gathered in groups around the room glanced over to see what the commotion was all about. They all knew how Arthur was about his father and magic. "He was using it to save someone!"

When Arthur had found out that Merlin was a warlock he'd accepted it immediately. There really was no question to it. But in doing so Arthur had chosen Merlin – and by association anyone welding magic – over his own father. As a consequence Arthur was constantly fighting with his father.

Uther put on his serious face. He was absurdly proud when Arthur questioned him. He would have preferred a different subject for them to quarrel on but, as he knew very well, you could not have everything. "Arthur, you know the law. Anyone known to have used magic is accused of treason. And you know the penalty for treason."

"But how do you even know it was him?" Arthur asked, desperately trying to find a way to save Sylar. Lord knows why, but he felt that Sylar was important somehow. God, he could be vague sometimes. "There were so many in that square! Anyone could have done it!"

Uther merely shook his head. "My decision is final. The sorcerer will die in two days time." He turned away from his son and continued the conversation he'd been having with Sir Joseph, who looked like he'd forgotten the subject of said conversation completely so interested had he been in the argument.

Arthur stood and stared at his father. He opened his mouth once, closed it, shook his head and then turned and stormed out.

***

Sylar had four visits during those two days. The first was Arthur.

When Arthur came into view, waving away the guards, Sylar frowned and stood up slowly.

They stood there in silence, facing each other, until Arthur said, rather abruptly, "You're going to be beheaded in two days time."

"Two days, huh?" Sylar said mildly. He sat down.

Silence.

"I could help you escape," Arthur said.

Sylar shook his head. "That would only prove that I was guilty. And," he added as Arthur opened his mouth to speak, "I won't use my _magic_, as you say, because, well actually I can't think of a good reason not to. But I'm still not going to use it."

Arthur shook his head. "You are very odd."

Sylar smiled slightly. "Tell me about it."

Arthur left after that. He tried, unsuccessfully, to get his father to either cancel or postpone the beheading but Uther would have none of it. The cuddly librarian inside him had put his foot down.

Sylar's second visitor was Peter.

He told the guards to leave him alone with the prisoner and the guards did exactly what he said. They went off to do things that will not be spoken of here because that would detract from what is happened here. And so.

Peter yelled at him for a full five minutes. Sylar was impressed.

When Peter finally took a breath Sylar asked, "Are you done yet?"

"Pretty much," Peter said and sat down on the other side of the bars from him.

Sylar was the first to break the silence. "Well, you weren't the idiot this time, Peter, I was." He sighed. "You're probably loving this."

Peter shook his head. "I'm not. And you're not an idiot. You did what you thought was right. That's not stupid."

Sylar gestured at the cell around him. "Then what do you call this?"

Peter thought about it. "Uh...a detour? A jumping off point in starting negotiations?"

Sylar stared at him. "You watch too many movies."

Peter grinned. "Well, obviously you watch the same ones."

"Don't tell anyone."

They laughed, rather nervously. Then Peter became serious. "How exactly are you going to get yourself out of this scrap, Sylar?"

Sylar ignored him and instead asked him something that had been bugging him for awhile. "Why do you call me Sylar?"

Peter blinked. Had Sylar lost his memory? "Because...that's your name," he said, as though it were obvious.

Sylar smiled wryly. "Well, yes. But you know my real name now. Why don't you call me Gabriel?"

Understanding dawned. "Because you obviously don't like the name. After all you discarded it when you chose Sylar." He laughed nervously and backtracked. "Plus I've known you as Sylar for so long I really don't feel comfortable with a change so late in the game." He cleared his throat. Hopefully that had put him off the scent. Not that there _was_ any scent.

Sylar stared at him. Finally, after making Peter as uncomfortable as he could possibly get, he said, "You really are the weirdest person I have ever met."

Peter smiled shyly, although he would have denied it vehemently. "Is that a good thing?"

Sylar tilted his head. "I don't really know."

Peter cleared his throat. "So...you didn't actually answer my question: how are you going to get yourself out of this mess?"

Sylar tried to look mysterious. "Oh, I have my ways..."

"So...no idea?"

Sylar grinned ruefully. "Not a clue."

They talked for a few minutes about nothing in particular and then Peter left when he felt the occasional silences were becoming a little too comfortable. He really had to sort out these feelings before they started to make a fool of him more than they were.

His third visitor was Rachel, who told him exactly what she was going to do to get him out. She only asked one thing in return.

"And what's that?" he asked.

She smiled. "Act surprised."

His fourth visitor couldn't even be called that. Sylar only knew he was there when he felt someone's gaze on him. When he looked up he saw a strange man looking at him with piercing blue eyes. Then he blinked and the man was gone. He shook his head. Obviously he'd imagined the whole thing. They hadn't actually given him any food so it was possible. But somehow he knew in his gut that the man had been there.

He shivered. Not much scared Sylar. Okay, there were occasional frights but nothing that chilled him to his very core. But that man's gaze freaked Sylar out. Although it appeared perfectly sane somehow Sylar knew that the man had gone beyond descriptions such as sane or insane. In other words, totally koo koo.

And then it was morning and the guards were coming to collect him and take him out to his death.

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**Ooh! **

**And did anyone else feel the Arthur/Sylar vibes? Seriously that just came out. **

**Hope you enjoyed and please review. **


	7. A Great Evil

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin.**

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Sylar couldn't help but looking at the crowd as the guards walked him towards the executioner to see if Peter was there. Sure enough, he was. Knowing Peter, he was probably thinking of doing something stupidly heroic.

He looked up at a stone-faced Uther, who began to speak about something or other. He really wasn't paying attention.

As Uther spoke about how magic was treason and that treason was punishable by death – something the people gathered had heard time and time again; some of them were actually yawning – Arthur clenched his fists. Why did his father have to be such a...such a, well, bastard.

Merlin, positioned behind Arthur, noticed his prince's tension and placed his hand in Arthur's. He squeezed slightly and Arthur relaxed. With Merlin at his side he knew nothing bad could really ever happen.

Morgana squeezed her eyes shut. She had dreamed this...and now it was coming true. She hated being a seer.

Sylar placed his head on the block and waited for the axe to fall. It didn't.

He looked up as the crowd began to murmur. Peter jumped on what could only be called a stage and pushed the executioner off, using some of the strength he'd sponged off someone.

That done, he went over and wrapped himself around Sylar, glaring at anyone who came close. The guards decided to leave them alone for now.

Sylar liked where he was right now. He could now smell Peter, unhindered. It was a very nice smell. It smelled like...Peter. There really was no other word for it.

Of course Peter's smell distracted Sylar from the fact that the crowd had not been murmuring at Peter's sudden heroics. No, they began murmuring excitedly when Rachel had appeared in the square (without magical help of course. She'd simply walked in) and shouted at Uther to "Stop!"

Uther, so surprised that anyone dare question his actions, actually motioned for the guards to stop the executioner. Of course he need not have bothered since Peter had taken care of that for him.

Rachel smiled. When Uther asked her just what the hell she thought she doing (except in a much more polite form), she answered, "I am the Guardian of Excalibur." She brandished the said sword as she did so and it sang as it swished through the air. Merlin gasped when he saw it.

Uther was not impressed. Well, okay, he was slightly impressed. But still. "I do not see what this has to do with stopping an execution."

Rachel continued to smile. "A great evil has come to this land, Uther Pendragon," she said quietly. "And this time your son and his manservant cannot fight it alone. They were sent here for a reason." Her smile suddenly turned cheeky. "Plus if you execute him the House of Brooklyn will come down on you like a ton of bricks. He's one of their heirs. And you know what people do when they find out their heir has been killed."

She let Uther mull that piece of information over. He was silent for a great while. Then he looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe we should discuss this somewhere more private," he said, becoming acutely aware of his people and their bated-breath-ness.

Rachel stayed put. "And what about the prisoner?" she asked, not letting Uther off the hook for one minute.

Uther grumbled to himself as Arthur, Morgana and Merlin hid grins. "Let him go," he commanded his guards, who had really just been sitting around and watching the spectacle. They made a show of untying Sylar's hands. Peter wouldn't let go of Sylar which made it more difficult than it really should have been. Sylar wasn't complaining though.

Although he should probably make a show of not enjoying Peter so much. So he pushed Peter away and mumbled under his breath, "God, you're an idiot, Peter."

Peter frowned. Instead of showing how hurt he was – a feeling he really couldn't explain – he asked sarcastically, "You really don't have much of an imagination when it comes to insults, do you?"

Sylar smiled slightly and looked him in the eye. Peter's heart skipped a beat. Bloody treacherous heart. "You noticed, huh?"

Why those three simple words made Peter feel better immediately he really couldn't tell you.

_Meanwhile..._

"Arthur, tell your manservant to leave," Uther told his son before turning to face Rachel.

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but Rachel got there first. "Actually, sire, he should be here."

Uther was silent for a moment then grudgingly allowed Merlin to stay. This matter had Uther so distracted that he didn't notice that Arthur and his manservant were still holding hands. Or maybe he didn't care.

"Now, what is this about a great evil?" Uther asked abruptly.

"His name is Galahad and, unlike many 'great evils,' he is entirely mortal." Before Rachel could go on, Uther interrupted. "Then why is he so great? My son would probably best him in battle any day."

She smiled rather sadly. "He is from a different time, sire. Brought here by a stupid act. And moving through time drove him mad."

Uther said, "Then he is a magic user."

She shook her head. "No. In his own time he was called Galahad the Pure. Someone needed him so much so that he was brought back in time. Unfortunately time travelling drove him mad. In his own time it is thought he died after seeing the Holy Grail. However I know that to be false. He was one of the most intelligent knights of his generation. That intelligence coupled with his madness has made him very unstable. In short he wants to take over your kingdom."

Uther rubbed his brow. "Why does everyone want to do that?"

Rachel looked sympathetic. "Well, he is mad, sire."

Uther bit back a laugh. "So you say." He shook his head. "What is this about Arthur, his manservant and those two foreign knights? Why are they the only ones who can stop him?"

"Actually, as much as it pains me to say this, there is one other person we may need," she replied. "And, well, to answer your question: it is their destiny." She smiled wryly.

Uther saw that she was not going to – or could not – offer up any other information and so went onto the next question. "Who is this other person?"

It seemed to take Rachel awhile to finally say it but eventually she did. "We need Sir Lancelot."

There was a silence. Uther looked at Arthur for clarification.

Arthur, still holding Merlin's hand in full view of Uther, answered, "The knight that defeated the griffin. You remember."

Uther blinked. "Oh. Him," he said, unconvincingly. He really couldn't be expected to remember everyone's names.

Since Uther was pretty much useless on this subject Arthur replied, "I'll get a letter to him as soon as possible."

Rachel nodded. She really didn't want to bring Lancelot into it but knew that at some point – she didn't know which – he would be needed. She groaned inwardly. She hoped it wouldn't be for long.

When Gwen found out that Lancelot might very well be coming back she squealed, ran up to Morgana and kissed her right on the lips. Morgana was very surprised. Gwen was very embarrassed.

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**Finally I mention Gwen! I'm sure some of you were wondering where she'd disappeared to. And I'm bringing Lancelot back. Virtual cookies if you guess why he's so important. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter. If you need any clarification on any points please feel free to ask. Well, review please. **


	8. Practical

**Author's Note: Castles are freezing. Especially medieval ones. Just so you know I wasn't making that fact up.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin. **

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"Do you _mind_?" Peter mumbled angrily as he wrenched the blanket away from Sylar. It was bad enough sharing a bed with his arch nemesis but now he had to go cold along with it? No way in hell.

Sylar merely pulled the blanket back to its original position. Peter sighed. Why did it have to be so bloody freezing in castles?

He tried to curl up on himself but stray breezes kept sneaking in. Damn. Bugger.

"Look, if you really want the blanket, all you have to do is ask," Sylar mumbled sleepily. "Just...please stop moving."

Like Peter would actually ask Sylar for anything. As if.

Sylar eventually became so fed up with Peter that he took matters into his own hands. Pushing the prized blanket back he pulled Peter towards him and wrapped him in his warm embrace. While Peter was suitable stunned (he couldn't be anything else, could he?) he pulled the blanket up and over them both.

"Now shut and go to sleep," Sylar mumbled before following his own wise advice.

Peter didn't know what to do. It was either freeze or stay in Sylar's admittedly very warm embrace. He decided on the latter almost immediately.

And it was only because the only other option was to freeze to death. Really.

In the morning Sylar was surprised to find Peter still snuggled up to him, with a small happy smile on his face. Really, no one would blame him if he ran his fingers through Peter's dark hair or stroked his fingers down Peter's arm. Plus Sylar had never really cared what other people thought.

Peter woke to the feel of Sylar's fingers on his skin. He really was enjoying himself far too much. He knew that if he opened his eyes Sylar would stop. So he didn't.

Sometimes there was really no logical explanation for his behaviour.

_Meanwhile..._

"Would you _stop _doing that, Merlin?" Arthur said grumpily.

Merlin simply grinned cheekily. Arthur hated it when he did that. It meant that he was in for a very good time or a very bad time. And sometimes he didn't know which was better.

"But you really have to get up, Arthur," Merlin was saying while stroking his back in a rather distracting way. Really, Merlin couldn't expect him to concentrate when he was doing that. "Your father told me specifically to get you out of bed by nine of the clock because he had some very important news."

"Shut up," Arthur said, the sound slightly muffled since he'd just buried his head into his pillow.

"What was that?" Merlin asked, pretending he hadn't heard.

Arthur fell for it. He turned himself over to repeat what he'd said in a much louder more effective voice. That was when Merlin jumped him.

And he really had no excuse when he arrived two hours late for his meeting with Uther. Except that Merlin could be terribly inventive when he wanted to be...

From the looks of things Peter and Gabriel did not look like they wanted to be here. Rachel looked like she was trying not to laugh and Morgana was obviously hiding a smirk. Uther was playing rock, paper, and scissors with himself.

Arthur felt Merlin at his back as he entered and couldn't keep a grin off his face. Thankfully Uther was far too involved in his game to pay that any mind.

Uther finally looked up when he realised everyone was there. Instead of yelling at Arthur for being late, as he'd expected, he merely motioned for Rachel to speak.

"Although Galahad may seem a perfectly ordinary man, albeit a mad one, it will not be as easy as you think to kill him," Rachel began, staying seated because standing just took too much effort. "Not only was he taught by one of the best knights in the realm but he is also protected by some unknown force."

"The person who brought him here, perhaps?" Morgana asked.

Rachel smiled rather sadly. "Perhaps. In any case," she added. "To kill him we will need a certain object."

"Wouldn't be easier to just use that sword you showed us yesterday?" Arthur asked, wondering idly what Merlin was thinking. "Excalibur or whatever you called it?"

"That does play an important part," she replied. "But there is another thing we need before we confront him."

"And that is?" Peter asked, to try and distract himself from trying not to read Sylar's mind. He hadn't realised how hard that was until now.

"It has no name and no specific shape," she said, knowing that she was going to get yelled at for being so cryptic. "It has been many things over the course of time and only one person can recognise it when they see it. I know both the name of that person and the name of the object's whereabouts."

Since Peter really need to distract himself and because he felt that she needed someone to prompt her he asked, without really thinking about it, "And who is that person?"

Rachel smiled. "You."

Peter's astonishment was quickly eclipsed by complete shock when Sylar of all people said, "No." Very simply put but somehow as cold as steel. Sylar didn't want him to go. Hush, you stupid butterflies.

"There is no choice," Rachel said, her tone final. When Sylar opened his mouth to say something more, she added, "And you can't go with him. This is something he has to do on his own."

Sylar pursed his lips then left. He really was the master of dramatic exits, Peter thought admirably.

Rachel held Peter back as the rest left.

Peter was gone by morning.

Sylar was very emphatic in his dislike of that.

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**So...those two scenes at the beginning I just had to put because there have not been many true slashy moments in this story. Plus they've been in my head all day. Why not put them in here? And yeah, it had to be Peter. You'll see why soon.**

**Anyway, review, please. **


	9. Tests

**Author's Note: Yeah, I know it took me awhile but you wouldn't believe how busy I've been. Suffice it to say that I was busy. Yeah. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. **

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He trembled for her. He wanted her. He needed her. Like he'd never needed anything or anyone is his life. Except possibly his father's love, but that had been impossible to gain.

She was the reason he was here, in this time, in this place.

She was the reason for his madness.

And she was the reason Peter Petrelli would die.

***

If you had asked Peter if he was afraid he would have said, hell yes. He didn't know why, though. It was a pretty simple mission: follow the map to the place Rachel had marked and then retrieve the object. Apparently he'd know what it was when he saw it. He decided to worry about that later.

Of course he fully expected Galahad to set up obstacles for him. This was part of the problem. He was almost half way there and _nothing _had happened. Absolutely nothing. It creeped him out. It also made him just a smidge more suspicious than he would have been normally. But then he'd left normal behind long ago.

"Do you have any food to spare for a frail old lady, deary?"

Peter looked up to meet the rheumy gaze of, naturally, a frail old lady. Peter, although immediately suspicious of any person who refers to themselves as a 'frail old lady,' nevertheless was a kind soul. For all the hardships he had lived through, Peter had never lost that part of himself that would think nothing of giving food to people who ask for it.

Without thinking he handed the frail old lady a piece of bread and cheese. Within seconds she had devoured the lot and yet still looked far too hungry for a woman of her advanced years. So he gave her another piece. Thankfully whoever had packed his backpack had included food enough to feed an army. Thus he could give the frail old lady more than enough to satisfy her hunger and still have enough for the journey.

She devoured the rest of her food and spent a good minute licking her lips and picking her teeth. Finally, just as Peter was getting ever so slightly impatient, she glanced up at him and said, "Thank you kindly, deary. It's not every day that someone is kind enough to give me some food."

Peter smiled.

The frail old lady and Peter each went their separate ways. The frail old lady had only travelled a few feet when she stopped and disappeared into thin air. Peter, having realised the time, had hurried on before he could see what had just happened.

Peter soon forgot about the old lady and began thinking about something he really shouldn't even have been contemplating. But he couldn't help himself. The thing about Sylar was that he was just so frustrating! On the one hand he was Peter's arch-nemesis and thus to be hated.

But then on the other hand there was just something about him. Something that made Peter blush to the tips of his dark hair. Something that made him stutter and stammer whenever his name was mentioned. He knew he had been so very obvious. Claire had once pointed it out to him in the confused way she said everything nowadays. As though she didn't understand what she was seeing and thus had decided to ignore it.

"Excuse me, sir? Sir?"

Peter looked up to see a very thin waif in front of him, pleading silently with large, dark eyes.

"Yes?" Peter asked kindly. He probably wanted food, Peter thought. He certainly looked like he needed it.

"Please, sir..." the boy said softly, his eyes immediately filling with tears. "Please, something terrible has happened. I need your help..." He promptly burst into tears.

Peter patted the boy awkwardly on the shoulder until he was merely sniffing dejectedly.

"Now, tell me what's happened and I'll see what I can do," he told the boy gently.

The boy sniffed and rubbed his nose on his sleeve. "There's something in the woods, sir," the child replied. "Something horrible. It's attacking people..." The boy's eyes filled with tears. "I think it's got my father..."

Peter sighed. Yet another delay. Oh well. It wasn't as if there was a particular time limit to his quest.

"Do you know where this creature is?" Peter asked and received an answering nod from the boy, who took him by the hand and led him off the path and into the woods. Belatedly Peter thought that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Oh well, he was too far into it to back out now.

The boy led him to a cave. Peter had not expected there to be caves out here. But then, he reflected, what was a terrible creature without a cave-type lair?

The boy pointed at the cave and said, rather unnecessarily, "It's in there, sir." The waif's lip wobbled. "Please save him, sir. Please..."

Peter told the boy to stay put and inched his way into the cave. He knew, through his frequent TV watching, that caves tended to be just slightly slippery. And he was right to be cautious.

The creature leaped out of the shadows and, with a roar, pounced. Peter did not get a good look at it; or at least the best look he'd got had left him feeling mighty confused. The creature was a giant black cat. Not a panther. A giant black domestic cat. But it couldn't be.

Using his super-strength Peter pushed the giant cat creature off him. He glanced down at himself, as the creature collected itself, and winced. The giant cat had clawed most of his flesh off. If he had not had the power of self-regeneration he would most certainly be dead.

The creature blinked at him. For some reason it seemed confused. "What?" it said, stupidly.

Peter's eyes widened. A giant talking black cat? What was next? A walking, talking banana?

"You...can talk!" Peter exclaimed in absolute shock.

The giant cat smirked. "And you can heal, if I'm not mistaken." It sniffed. "Who sent you here?" it demanded suddenly. "Was it Colin? 'Cause I swear I'll pay him back as soon as I can. You can't rush these things."

The giant cat saw from Peter's highly confused expression that he had not been sent by Colin. "Well?" it asked. "Who sent you?"

"Uhhh," Peter mumbled. "This boy said that there was something terrible attacking people and that it'd taken his father. I was, uh, trying to help him."

The giant cat blinked at him for a full minute before spluttering with laughter. "You mean," it said through spurts of uncontrollable laughter, "that you actually believed him?"

Peter did not like being laughed at, as Sylar well knew. He'd learnt his lesson years ago. "Yes, I did," he said coldly. "Why is that a bad thing?"

The giant cat saw that it was making no friends with its laughter and abruptly stopped. "I'm supposed to tell you that the one who seems forever lost can be saved by three words," it recited in a sing-song voice. "Oh, and that if you ever need me just call my name."

It turned back to its cave. A minute later it came back. "What are you still doing here?" it demanded grumpily.

"You haven't told me your name," Peter replied, trying to hide a smirk at the embarrassed expression on the giant cat's face.

"It's Sedosipe," it said grudgingly then trudged its way back through the caves.

Peter shook his head. His life was naturally weird but that had just been something completely different.

He quickly found his way back to the path. The boy had disappeared. Peter felt slightly stupid for believing such an obvious ruse.

In no time at all he found himself almost three quarters of the way there, at least according to the map.

Thankfully he wasn't thinking about a certain someone or he would have missed it. A quiet mewing sound emanated from some nearby bushes. When Peter went to investigate he found an injured squirrel.

He picked it up gently and gazed down at it. "You're not going to start speaking, are you?" Peter asked the wounded animal. It gazed dumbly back at him, its eyes dull with pain.

He decided to get cracking. Using the healing power he'd acquired off a British girl he'd met while searching for a way to save Caitlin, he knitted the skin back together.

He fell back slightly as the squirrel bounded away, completely fine. Healing, at least this sort of healing, always took it out of him. However in a few minutes he was as fine as the squirrel appeared to be.

He continued on his way and arrived at the place where he was supposed to find the object. The end of his quest was almost anti-climactic. He entered the apparently abandoned hut and saw the object he had been searching for almost immediately. It was an incredibly plain wooden goblet. He was rather disappointed.

That was when something attacked him.

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**And ooh! What will happen next?**

**Virtual cookies for anyone who guesses where I got the idea for the giant cat's name. Review please. **


	10. Return

**Author's Note: Oh my god, I wrote another one! This one is not as long as the last one. Just so you know.**

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It took Peter awhile to realise, as he defended himself from the thing's assault, that what had attacked him wasn't something like the giant black cat creature. It was a very large man.

Peter had not been able to muster his super strength in time to fend off his attacker and so it wasn't long before the man had Peter's neck in his sausage-sized fingers. With a slight twist his attacker snapped his neck.

His job done, the large man stood up and brushed himself off. Then he said, "It is done, Master."

Henry heard his master's insidious voice inside his head. He really didn't like it when his master did that. It freaked him out. A lot. "Have you checked?"

Henry blinked. "I snapped his neck, Master. He ain't getting up any time soon."

His master hissed. "Check all the same."

Henry shrugged and turned to do just that only to be knocked unconscious by a seriously pissed of Peter, who had _not _liked being attacked and had certainly hated dying.

Peter stood over the unconscious body of his enormous attacker and thought that at about this time anyone else would have uttered a witty one-liner. He couldn't think of one and so decided not to say anything.

Peter grabbed the wooden goblet on his way out. The journey back was uneventful. It really was no time at all before he arrived back at the castle.

***

Sylar had _not _been happy with Rachel's underhandedness and so avoided her as much as he possibly could. He went to visit the Dragon every now and then but he was not very good company. Mostly he listened to the Dragon moan about his captivity and how he hadn't had a good stretch in decades. You can only hear about wind velocity so many times before it begins to drive you crazy.

He then burdened Gaius with his presence. Gaius, being a rather busy man who could use all the help he could get, put him immediately to work collectively herbs and such from the nearby forest. After awhile that became as tedious as listening to the Dragon moan.

So he hung around Morgana and Gwen, who basically ignored him. He was just about to go absolutely stark raving mad when he heard the guards announce Peter's return. He'd taken to hanging around there in the hopes that Peter would return if he did.

Peter was tackled by an extremely strong individual as soon as he entered the castle. It took him awhile to realise that it was Sylar, who had buried his face in Peter's shirt upon arrival on his person.

It then occurred to Peter that maybe he shouldn't like it so much when Sylar buried his face there.

As surprised as Peter was at Sylar's unorthodox greeting he was even more surprised when Sylar drew back and punched him square in the face. "Don't you _ever _do that to me again," Sylar said, his tone absolutely serious.

Peter blinked. His face hurt. "What did you do that for?" he asked, feeling around his nose gingerly.

Sylar's face softened and he then did something that surprised Peter even more than the tackle and the punch combined. He took Peter's face in his hands and kissed his nose. "There," he said, nodding in a very final way. "Is that better?"

Peter turned an interesting shade of red. "No," he said through a cloud of embarrassment. When he saw Sylar's face he added, "But it helps."

Someone cleared their throat, causing Sylar and Peter to jump apart quickly and turn towards the noise. Arthur grinned at them. "So I take it the quest was successful?"

Merlin tried not to laugh at the expression on Peter's face as he tried to muster as much of his dignity that he had left. He wasn't the only one.

Peter nodded. "Yeah...although I had a bit of trouble once I arrived. Some guy attacked me..."

Only Merlin noticed Sylar bunch his hands into fists so tight that they turned white.

"...but since I'm here you can see he got the worst end of the stick," Peter finished. He held up the wooden goblet. "This is the object I was sent to find it seems."

"Pretty anti-climactic, if you ask me," Arthur said, looking at the wooden goblet, a sceptical look in his blue eyes. "I was expecting something a bit more..." He waved his hands randomly. "...weapon-like."

"Don't judge a book by its cover," Merlin said.

"Yes, thank you for spouting useless clichés at me," Arthur said, sarcastically. "I'm sure I was just _dying _to know that one."

Merlin glared. Sometimes Arthur could be such a prat. And other times...

Arthur, catching Merlin's suddenly very amorous gaze, quickly told Peter to go and show Rachel the wooden goblet before disappearing with Merlin in tow.

Sylar stayed very close to Peter. He was not letting him out his sights again.

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**Ooh. Or maybe not. Anyone care to guess what the wooden goblet is called?**

**Anyway, read and review. Hopefully you liked this one. **


	11. Memories

**Author's Note: Okay, I wanted to do a 'memories' chapter just to show that five years have passed in both shows. And I supposed I should warn you not to squint 'cause you might see Paire. Maybe. It could just be my imagination.**

**Disclaimer: I have a feeling that I didn't do this for the last two chapters so this is for them too: I do not own Heroes or Merlin.**

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_Sylar watched as Claire shot Elle in the gut. He nodded to Adam who immediately injected her with some of his blood, which they always kept handy. _

_Elle smiled at a rather stunned Claire, who growled low in her throat. Before she could truly recover, however, Elle threw a bolt of electricity her way which burned her from the outside in._

"_We should probably get out of here before she regenerates," Elle said mildly, blowing on her fingers._

"_Or until Peter shows up. You know how righteous he can get." Adam looked at Sylar for confirmation. _

_Sylar nodded slowly and all three left quickly. But not before Sylar had drawn a message for Peter on Claire's burnt body in permanent marker. Just to screw with him._

_Sylar liked Elle and Adam. They were almost exactly like him. Plus they hated the Company as much as he did, especially after they had destroyed the Souhaiter Organisation. After he'd killed Elle, of course they could only be friends. She liked frying him every now and then just to remind him of how much he owed her. Adam's girlfriend had died in the fire that had destroyed the Souhaiter Organisation HQ so he had more reason than most to hate the Company. _

_He would have liked to stay until Peter showed up. It was always fun riling him; he was just so cute when he was angry. Sylar smiled at the very thought. _

Sylar woke, gasping for breath. After he had calmed down he realised that it was still dark out. He glanced at a sleeping Peter next to him. He remembered the fire that had destroyed his last chance at a good life. Why Peter had sided with those Company bastards he would never know. It probably had something to do with Claire. It usually did.

He stroked Peter's cheek lightly with on finger and smiled as Peter leaned into said finger. Then he went back to sleep and had no more dreams.

***

_Peter teleported in just as Claire had almost healed herself. Only a few burns on her chest showed that, moments before, she had been dead. _

"_Claire!" Peter exclaimed, kneeling down beside her. "Are you alright?" _

_Claire glared and pushed him away. "I'm fine," she growled, ignoring Peter's hand as she propped herself up. She slowly made her way to her feet. "That bitch just electrocuted me, is all. Nothing I can't handle."_

_She brushed herself, noticing as she did the message Sylar had scrawled on her. "That son of a bitch!" she yelled, drawing a concerned Peter back to her side. _

_She glared up at him, pointing at the message. "He really has a thing for you, doesn't he?" _

_Peter gazed at the 'Hey, Peter' drawn on Claire's stomach in what turned out to be permanent marker when Claire tried to scrub it off back in her room. Sylar had always been very good as screwing with Peter's mind and this was no exception. _

"_That bastard," he said, although with less enthusiasm. Sylar always confused him. _

Peter blinked himself awake. Okay, that was weird, he thought. He glanced over at Sylar who, it seemed, was a snorer. Peter didn't really mind that. He thought it was cute.

He lay back down. Claire. He hadn't thought about her in awhile. As he fell asleep again he wondered vaguely what had become of her.

***

_Arthur watched as Merlin muttered something under his breath and then pointed his finger at the assassin, who screamed briefly then vanished. _

_He waited for awhile then said, "Okay, what the hell was that?"_

_Merlin looked at him. Arthur realised that what he was seeing in the eyes of his manservant was fear. Did Merlin really think that him being a sorcerer would matter? Did he have such a low opinion of him?_

_As Merlin stuttered an obviously false explanation, Arthur smiled and walked over to him. He placed his hands on Merlin's shoulders and said, rather playfully, "I don't think I ever really meant it before but now it is official: you are a complete and utter idiot."_

_Merlin smiled, his incredulity plain. "Wh-what?"_

"_God, are you deaf too?" Arthur shook his head in mock disgust. "Why I keep you around is beyond me."_

Arthur woke with a start. Something had hit him in the face. It took him a moment to retrieve his bearings and another moment in which to realise that that something had been Merlin's hand.

"Damn Merlin," he grumbled softly before snuggling up beside his manservant and falling back into sleep.

***

_Merlin had been, at first, very surprised when Arthur had so readily accepted the fact that he was a sorcerer. Then he'd gotten used to the fact even though every now and then Arthur caught him gazing at him with not a little bit of wonder in his eyes. Merlin knew how much that annoyed his prince but he couldn't help it. _

_Of course that surprise had been nothing to the surprise he felt when he saw Arthur whisper in Morgana's ear and then saw her amused smile. He was jealous. He, for incredibly weird reasons he was sure, wanted to be Morgana's ear. Or better yet, he wanted to be the one Arthur whispered to. _

_Merlin was not in a very good mood after that. He muttered under his breath and occasionally he growled. When he saw the grin on Arthur's face it just made him even more mad. _

"_Stop that," he said, through gritted teeth._

"_Stop what?" Arthur replied innocently as though he didn't know the effect he was having on Merlin merely by being in the same room with him. Damn him. _

"_Stop grinning," Merlin said, trying to hide his anger but just making it more obvious._

"_Why?" Arthur asked, honestly having no idea why Merlin was so angry at him. _

"_Just...because." Merlin, who had been trying to fold Arthur's jacket, threw it to the ground in disgust. "Because I said so."_

_Arthur's eyes danced. "Or what?"_

"_Or this." Merlin threw Arthur up against the wall with a flick of his wrist, his eyes turning gold momentarily. _

_And Arthur still wouldn't stop grinning. Even when Merlin shoved his tongue down his throat he still wouldn't stop..._

Merlin's eyes flew open and he sat up gasping. What the hell had woken him from such a good dream? He would kill it.

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**So...good? Not good? Review please and tell me. Pretty please with a cherry on top (ooh, cherries...).**

**Next chapter should be up soon. Hopefully. **


	12. Feelings

**Author's Note: This chapter is a bit short. Just so you know.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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Part of Peter wondered why Sylar was so worried about him. After all they were arch-nemeses. You'd think Sylar would be glad if something bad happened to Peter. Another part, this one much larger, simply didn't care why and just enjoyed having Sylar around. Sometimes he just did not understand himself.

Maybe travelling through time had made him crazy just like it had done to Galahad. But no, he shook his head. These damn treacherous thoughts had been plaguing him long before they'd arrived in Camelot. Stupid, stupid thoughts. Obviously they were. They couldn't be anything else.

"Peter, may I speak with you?" Peter looked up into the face of that seer woman, Morgana. Apparently she was the King's ward, whatever that meant. He glanced at Sylar then shrugged.

Morgana drew him aside, leaving Sylar to contemplate vaguely the idea of visiting the Dragon again. But, no, that would leave Peter vulnerable. Or he might leave without saying goodbye. Again.

"Peter, I think you should seriously think about doing something about the current situation," Morgana said as soon she deemed them far enough away from Sylar. "Before it gets completely ridiculous."

Peter was confused. "What current situation?"

She lowered her voice. "The situation in which that guy over there is madly in love with you." She pointed at Sylar, who was gazing rather curiously in their direction.

Peter spluttered. "_What_? Sylar, in love with me?" He laughed. "Lady, you have got to be on drugs. He doesn't love me. We're arch-nemeses," he added, as if that cleared everything up.

Morgana shook her head at Peter's blindness. "If you really are arch-nemeses, then why does he follow you around so much? Why does he care whether you live or die?"

Peter was stumped. Then he remembered something. "Because he's waiting for a time to repay his debt to me for saving his life!" he said triumphantly. "If it weren't for me, he'd be dead right now!"

Morgana sighed. This guy was in serious denial. "Actually, you'll find that Rachel saved his life. And apparently he isn't too happy with her. Something about sending you off on that quest without him?" She gazed at him, hopefully. Maybe he'd stop denying it.

Peter blinked. Before he could say anything Gwen approached them and he shut his mouth.

"Have you told him yet?" she asked Morgana. Peter's jaw dropped. What was this? Did everyone know? Except him, apparently.

As Morgana filled Gwen in on their conversation up until now Peter glanced over at Sylar, who just happened to be gazing at Peter. Their eyes locked, as eyes are wont to do sometimes.

Morgana turned back to berate Peter some more for being so blind (it was just so fun!) she found both he and Sylar had disappeared. After a momentary confusion she shrugged and followed Gwen back to her room.

Peter teleported into their bedroom with a rather disgruntled Sylar in tow. He was about to ask just what the hell Peter was smoking when he pushed up against the wall by that very same man. He decided not to say anything. Peter might take it as a complaint and stop.

"Are you in love with me?" Peter hissed.

Sylar blinked. Okay, not what he'd expected but he'd go with it. He snorted. "Uh, no, I'm not in love with you. Where the hell did you hear something as dumb as that?"

Why Peter felt suddenly very hurt he couldn't tell you. He let go of Sylar and moved into the centre of the room. Sylar caught the edge of the wall and stopped himself from sliding down. He hadn't realised Peter was holding him up.

"Who told you I was in love with you?" Sylar asked, curious. He'd thought he'd been pretty low key when it came to Peter. Okay, maybe moping around while he was gone and then tackling him to the ground when he returned hadn't helped. But still.

"Morgana," Peter mumbled, very embarrassed. Well, wouldn't you be?

Sylar blinked. Okay, this was getting a bit weird. Was Peter actually hurt by what he'd said?

Before he could find out Merlin rushed into the room.

"Oh, good," he said, breathing heavily. "You're here. You know, I've been looking for you everywhere..."

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Get to the point."

Merlin blinked at his abruptness. Sylar couldn't help it. He'd finally been getting somewhere. Merlin recovered enough to say, "Lancelot's here. I thought you might like to know."

***

Lancelot was slightly uncomfortable. As soon as he'd arrived they had stuck him in a room whose only inhabitant continued to glare silently at him even after he'd introduced himself.

Hopefully others would be along soon so she would stop looking at him with such disgust in her eyes.

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**Damn Lancelot and his untimely arrival! Ooh, and look! Morgana has a bigger role in this! And Peter's blindness is highlighted! Anyway, review, please!**


	13. Father

**Author's Note: Yes, I haven't posted in awhile. Oh so sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

"So why exactly is this Lancelot guy important?"

Sylar glanced over at Peter and rolled his eyes. He'd decided to put everything that had happened behind him. Well, okay, that was a lie. He'd actually decided to put everything to the back of his mind where it wouldn't, in theory, bother him. Boy, was he wrong. All he could think about was how Peter had thrown him against the wall.

Merlin was the one that answered. "You'd have to ask Rachel that. She won't tell any of us." From his rather disgruntled tone Peter and Sylar could both tell that he did not approve of this.

Before they could really address this disgruntlement Merlin stopped and said, as he opened a nearby door, "Here we are."

Lancelot was surprised at the reactions he received from the two men who entered with Merlin. The one with the bangs looked almost afraid and hid behind the other one, who seemed incredibly shocked.

Sylar gazed at Lancelot for a moment while absentmindedly shielding Peter. The man looked exactly like that druggie artist psychic person he'd killed years ago. Sylar rarely, if ever, forgot a face. No one survived him unless he wanted them to. So how was it that the druggie artist psychic person (he was not so good with names) was here?

Peter recognised Isaac Mendez and a shudder ran right through his slender frame. He _loathed _psychics, even apparently dead ones like Isaac. Even since that one time in New Zealand...he shuddered at the memory.

"Peter. Gabriel," Merlin, oblivious to their reactions upon seeing his friend, gestured to the knight. "I'd like you to meet Sir Lancelot."

Sylar narrowed his eyes. So that was how it was. Isaac must have been a descendant of Lancelot. Or something along those lines anyway, since he'd never heard of Lancelot having any children except...His dark eyes widened. So _that _was why Rachel needed him here.

Rachel smiled rather sourly when she saw Sylar had finally grasped the reason. She stood up and clasped her hands together. "Now all we have to do is wait for Arthur, Morgana and Gwen to arrive."

Lancelot brightened immediately. "Gwen's coming?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, Sir Lancelot, she is."

Suddenly the last few hours didn't matter. Gwen was coming. He was happy.

Peter slowly took a seat, although at a safe distance from Lancelot. Sylar sat next to him. Sylar knew of Peter's fear of psychics. After all, he'd been there when that woman had almost destroyed a whole country, taking Peter's nephew with her. He shook his head tiredly. Monty had not deserved that. And being told that his nephew had prevented the destruction of an entire country had not helped Peter in the slightest.

Without a thought he took Peter's hand under the table and squeezed it gently. Peter did not look over at him. Okay, maybe he glanced. But it was not noticeable. Well...not much.

Sylar kept a hold of Peter's hand as an eager Gwen, followed by the very tired Arthur and Morgana, entered.

"Lancelot," Gwen said breathily.

"Gwen," Lancelot answered, equally as breathily.

"Now that we're aware of these two lovely people's names, let's get started, shall we?" Rachel said, trying without success to smother a smile.

Morgana raised her hand as she seated herself. "I second that."

"Now," Rachel began as Arthur took a seat near Merlin. She reached into a nearby bag and pulled out the wooden goblet Peter had quested for. She placed it on the table they were gathered around. "This goblet is a very powerful object. It has been known by many names throughout time. The most famous of which is the Holy Grail." She paused to let them murmur. "However it is so much more than that. It holds the power of life and death. Depending on the circumstances, and the right incantations, whoever drinks from the goblet will either die a terrible death or become immortal."

"Let me get this straight," Sylar said sceptically. "We're going to kill Galahad through...trickery? I can see plenty of holes with that plan."

A corner of her mouth twitched. "Very true. There a_re _many holes. However," she added. "We have one thing he does not except us to have." She pointed at Lancelot, rather smugly in Sylar's opinion. "Him."

Lancelot, who had up to that point been ogling Gwen, started when she pointed at him. He looked confused. "Me? What have I got to do with anything?"

Rachel smiled. "You? Why, you are the most important person here. See, Galahad is from the future. A future in which you" – she pointed at him again – "are his father."

Lancelot blinked. What the hell had she just said? He was this Galahad person's father? Underneath all of the shock and confusion this sentence brought him there lay a thought which said: Was Gwen his mother?

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**Review please. **


	14. Mad

**Author's Note: I updated! Yay!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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"What?" Lancelot said, rather stupidly.

"You are his father," Rachel repeated, much slower this time.

"But I don't have a son," he stated stubbornly. He just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that Galahad, the crazy man who was his reason for being back in Camelot, was his son. "I would know if I had a son."

"Galahad is from the future," she repeated, sighing softly. "A future in which you _do _have a son."

Lancelot thought for a bit then, after some hesitation, asked, "Was I a _good _father?"

Rachel felt a modicum of pity for the knight sitting in front of her. "Not really, no. Outwardly you were the ideal for a father and son. But, somehow, you could never forgive him for being his mother's son."

His brow furrowed. "Who was his mother?"

"Someone who loved you very much. Or at least though she did," she added. "She seduced you, made you believe that she was the woman you truly loved." Her gaze skipped over Gwen, faster than anyone could really follow. "And then gave birth to your child. You felt sorry for him. When he was old enough you made him a knight. He tried so hard to earn your love. He became the purest knight that had ever lived. All for you."

"So I wasn't all that bad," Lancelot said hopefully. "I made him a knight."

"Yes, you did," she replied. "And then, your work done, you ignored him. He was no longer your _problem_." Her mouth formed itself into a sneer on the last word. "And yet...he never hated you."

Lancelot blinked, surprised. But he was not the first one to speak.

"What?" Peter exclaimed, forgetting for the moment the presence of Isaac's lookalike. "How could he not hate him?" He gestured at Lancelot, who winced but seemed in agreement.

Rachel smiled. "I told you. He was the purest knight in the world. He could never hate anyone." Only Morgana caught the hint of pride in her voice. She filed it away for future investigation.

"So, what you're saying is," Sylar said, the scepticism still rife in his tone. "We're going to use Lancelot here as the distraction. He's going to make Galahad drink from the goblet."

She shook her head slowly. "You're forgetting one tiny thing."

Before she could remind them of what that tiny thing was, Gwen said, "He's mad."

Rachel nodded. "Exactly."

***

Henry whimpered. "Please," he whispered. "Please, master..."

Galahad smiled thinly. "You failed me, Henry," he said softly. "And you know what I do to people who fail me."

Henry sobbed. "I promise I won't let it happen again. I promise I won't fail you again..."

He gave a great shuddering breath. "I killed him, master. I know I did. I felt his neck snap beneath my hands. He died."

Galahad stopped what he had been doing abruptly. "He regenerated?" he asked sharply.

Henry whimpered in confusion.

Galahad sighed in frustration. "He healed himself?"

Henry nodded slowly in an attempt to alleviate the pain. His gasp a moment later attested to the fact that it had not worked. "I think so, master..."

Galahad paused. He tapped his fingers slowly on the back of Henry's chair. His blue eyes glittered. "This changes everything."

"It does, master?" Henry asked, hoping that his master had finished with him.

Galahad grinned down at him. "Oh yes, Henry. It was certainly does." He burst into peals of laughter.

Sometimes Henry thought his master was a few bricks short of a chimney. Of course, he would never say anything.

***

Sylar watched Peter from his position on the bed. Peter was standing near a window, gazing out at the knights practising below.

"I don't think the plan's going to work," he said, his voice making Peter start slightly.

"You don't?" Peter asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Sylar stood up and made his way slowly over to Peter. "Because," he said softly as he gazed at the knights below.

Peter waited for him to continue. When it became clear he was going to Peter said, "You know, 'because' is not an answer."

Sylar gazed at Peter, a small smile on his lips. "Isn't it?"

Then he leaned across and pressed those lips onto Peter's.

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**Ooooh! The DRAMA!**

**Yeah, I know, it's pretty short. Oh well. Anyway, review please. ******


	15. Tussling

**Author's Note: Hey, I updated! Woo!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

Gwen sighed dreamily as she watched Lancelot fight in the courtyard. "Isn't he just the cutest guy you've ever seen?"

Merlin snorted. "No. _Arthur's _much cuter." He watched his prince deflect one knight's blow while simultaneously sparring with Lancelot, pride shining in his blue eyes.

Gwen's dreaminess disappeared instantly. She levelled a fiery glare at the warlock beside her. "No, Lancelot is," she said through gritted teeth.

"No," Merlin said, patiently, as though drilling through her skull with a surgeon's precision. "Arthur is."

Gwen's eyes narrowed. "Lancelot."

Merlin matched her narrowed eyes with his own. "Arthur."

Morgana sighed impatiently. "Would you two just agree to disagree? You're giving me a headache," she said, brushing her dark hair behind her ear. _And distracting me from the sight of hundreds of handsome knights fighting each other_, she added silently.

Gwen was silent immediately, although she continued to glare at Merlin.

Merlin, who rarely got the last word and didn't have to obey Morgana anyway, said, "Arthur's the cutest."

He grinned at the outraged expression on Gwen's face as she tried desperately to respond without catching her mistress' attention. His grin widened as she failed.

***

Peter blinked. Okay, well, actually he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of Sylar's lips on his and then after a rather prolonged moment he opened his eyes and watched Sylar kissing him. In the denial part of his brain he decided to call this blinking. He repeated this a lot.

After a while he realised that if he didn't kiss Sylar back maybe he would cease kissing him. In a bit of a panic (after all he rather enjoyed blinking) he responded to Sylar's advances with a passion that surprised him.

He felt Sylar stiffen slightly then respond in kind. They somehow found themselves on the bed before Peter regained some sense of self-control. As a part of him yelled, 'What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he pushed away from Sylar slightly.

Sylar frowned. He'd thought it was going so well. "What?" he said, rather stupidly since he was distracted by the sight of a half naked Peter.

"So you are in love with me!" Peter exclaimed in triumph. "Morgana was right!"

Sylar had to roll his eyes. "_That's _what this is all about?" he said petulantly. "You interrupted because of that?"

He seized Peter's lips in his and half an hour of passionate tussling ensued before Peter's rational (read: stupid) side took over again.

"How long?" he asked, his tone incredibly stubborn.

Sylar groaned. "How long what?" he asked, giving in to Peter and his weird but incredibly attractive ways.

"How long have you been in love with me?" Peter whispered into Sylar's ear, making he heard every word.

"If you must know," Sylar began. "Three years."

Peter's eyebrows rose. "Three years? When exactly did you realise?"

"You are very annoying, did you know that?" Sylar asked.

Peter merely looked at him. Sylar sighed and said, "Well, I've always got a kick out of annoying the hell out of you. It really just developed from that. After I realised I did most of that because I thought you looked incredibly cute when you were annoyed, that was that. I was yours." Sylar waited, hoping Peter wouldn't pry too much.

"Liar," Peter murmured in his ear. He didn't press, much to Sylar's relief. Instead, happily, they went back to their very enjoyable tussling until about an hour later when the Dragon cried out in absolute agony.

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**I know, really short. But that's all you're going to get. So there. **

**Bit of a competition between Merlin and Gwen. Bit of a cliff-hanger. Hope you liked it. Review please. ******


	16. Scream

**Author's Note: Another chapter! Yay! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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"Water, Merlin," Arthur said imperiously while gasping for breath. Merlin felt a peculiar admiration for him even being able to do that. It must be a prince thing.

Arthur watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye. Everything that wasn't Merlin always blurred when he was near. Nothing really mattered except him. Even being a prince. Merlin, he thought, hadn't a clue of the effect he had on Arthur.

Except that he did. Merlin knew exactly what Arthur was feeling because he felt it too, every day.

Arthur had his back to the other knights and, as Merlin handed him the cup, he grasped his free hand, entwining their fingers. Gwen and Morgana were the only witnesses to an incredibly public tender moment. Gwen was distracted by Lancelot so Morgana was really the only who noticed. Thankfully she kept her thoughts to herself, although she didn't trouble to hide the huge grin that swept her face for a tiny moment.

Arthur saw Merlin frown and glanced over to where he was gazing, spotting a very flustered looking Peter and a grumbling Sylar emerge from the castle. An identical frown lit his face.

"Did you hear?" Peter asked anxiously as soon as they were in hearing distance. "Did you hear the Dragon?"

Everyone shushed him, except Sylar who just looked incredibly pissed. No wonder, really.

Peter repeated his question in a much quieter voice. Merlin's frowned deepened and he asked Peter to clarify what he meant.

"He cried out," Peter replied, looking if it was at all possible even more anxious. "Like he was in some sort of pain. A very big, bad pain," he clarified, just in case anyone needed it.

Merlin shook his head. "I didn't hear anything. In any case, you should probably go check it out..." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How do you even know about the Dragon?"

Peter shrugged. "He called me. When we first arrived."

Merlin blinked. "Oh." He tried to recover himself a little by repeating what he had said before. "You should probably go check it out then. It might be nothing but then again..."

"...it might be something," Peter finished, nodding firmly. He then dragged Sylar off to see what was bothering the Dragon.

When they saw what was bothering him, Sylar summed up everything in one word, "Shit."

Someone – who could possibly be the large man standing over the Dragon wielding a bloody sword – had pierced the Dragon in what could possibly be called his stomach although Sylar, having no real medical knowledge of dragon anatomy, couldn't really say.

The large man – who Peter recognised as the man who attacked him – was not alone. A woman was screaming at him, a woman they identified as Rachel as they moved closer. She seemed incredibly pissed.

The Dragon was far from his usual golden hue. His breathing wasn't that great either. In fact, one might hazard a guess that he was dying.

Peter did not hesitate. He let go of Sylar's hand and flew over to the Dragon, ignored completely by Rachel and the large man, who looked more and more uncomfortable the longer she kept screaming at him.

The Dragon watched, in a detached way, as Peter landed near him and laid his hands on the wound. It took Peter far longer to heal the Dragon than it had to heal the squirrel. One very obvious reason, he knew, was the difference in size. Another was that although he had medical knowledge in no way did it pertain to dragons of any kind. Especially big golden ones.

Somehow it worked though. Peter wondered vaguely if, as he grew stronger, the Dragon helped him along a bit. It didn't really matter though. What mattered was that, a quarter of an hour after he had laid his hands on the wound, the Dragon was healed.

Sylar had watched with a detached amusement as Rachel berated the large man loudly. He'd been far more interested in the fact that Peter was healing the Dragon. And the fact that Peter had recognised the large man. Sylar wasn't stupid; he'd noticed.

Henry – for it was he – now looked like nothing so much as a boy caught doing something he really shouldn't have been doing. Peter finally had the time to tune into what she was screaming about. She had been remarkably repetitive.

"I cannot believe Galahad would stoop this low!" she yelled at one point. "That..." And then she said a word which, when asked later, Merlin said meant something like 'fucking wanker' but with references to his parentage and certain parts of his anatomy thrown in. Sylar had been rather surprised that one word could encompass so much.

Henry looked positively terrified. He brandished the sword at her rather ineffectively and then, abruptly, vanished. It took Rachel five minutes to realise he'd gone. She blinked in frank astonishment.

He appeared, looking slightly sick, in front of his master, who looked rather pleased with himself. That pleasure vanished as Henry poured out his story. He clenched his fists until they were positively white with fury. His blue eyes flashed and Henry, fearing for his life and needing to go vomit, ran for his life.

It was good Henry left when he did. Otherwise he would have been a smoking pile of ash just as the piece of carpet he'd been standing in a moment ago was now. Galahad had been practising. Anger helped. Another emotion helped even better but he hadn't felt that in so many years. Sometimes he felt that it didn't exist. At least, not for him.

"Who was that man?" Sylar asked. Even though the question was directed at Rachel he kept his gaze on Peter, who avoided it.

"Henry," Rachel replied, trying to gather at least some dignity. "A servant of Galahad's." She saw, thankfully, that Sylar wasn't paying attention to her and breathed a sigh of relief. Of course, she forgot to factor in the Dragon, who eyed her with a glint of suspicion in his large eyes.

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**Oooh, two people are suspicious now. And Sylar is not happy with Henry...**

**Review please. They give me a happy feeling...**


	17. Quiet

**Author's Note: Every character has something to say in this chapter (except Henry and Galahad) so...yeah. Yay, another chapter! Woo!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

The Dragon searched their minds. He did this quite often. He knew that they wouldn't like it if they ever heard he could, which is why he'd never told anyone. It tended to freak people out. This time, however, he had a specific purpose.

It was only half an hour into his search when he found what he was looking for, in the mind of Morgana. He called to her softly and she, eating dinner with Uther and company, tried to disguise the sudden increase in her heartbeat as a mild allergic reaction to, she looked down, the rabbit. Damn. Everyone knew that was one of her favourites. Thankfully no one paid her much attention.

When she asked to be excused Uther waved his hand vaguely. He was much too caught up in conversation with Lancelot about the new inventions sweeping the world.

The Dragon guided her gently down to his cage-cave. Her eyes widened at the sight of him since, although she'd been aware of his presence, had never actually laid eyes on him before now.

"Morgana," the Dragon rumbled at her. She gulped. He really was a very big creature. "Lady Morgana, do you know why I have brought you here?"

She swallowed nervously. "Uh, no," she replied.

The Dragon moved its mouth into what Morgana could only assume was a smile. "It has something to do with a certain woman and a certain madman..." He waited for her to catch on.

Morgana's eyes widened. "Oh," she said. "That." She blinked. "You noticed then? I thought I was the only one."

"We must be more observant," the Dragon said without a trace of scorn in his voice. After a moment Morgana realised he was trying to be funny.

"Yes," she replied, trying to smile and not seem nervous. "We must be." She decided to get down to business. "But what do you think it means? She sounded so _proud_ of Galahad as though she knew him..."

"...and she knew his manservant by name," the Dragon added. "There is no doubt that they know each other. The question is how. And also why she wants to bring him down so badly."

***

Rachel trembled in her room. Uther had given it to her. It was a nice room, not that she noticed at the moment.

Galahad had sent Henry to kill the Dragon. Why would he do something so...stupid? He really had gone mad. She rested her head gently in the palms of her hands and whimpered softly.

***

Arthur watched as Sylar very unsubtly pushed Peter out of the room. He sought to hide a grin and wasn't entirely successful. In fact one could go so far as to say he sniggered.

Merlin smacked him lightly on the arm as he refilled his prince's goblet. "Shut up," he murmured into his ear.

"You're just jealous I'm not doing the same thing," Arthur retorted, receiving a much harder smack on the head. Arthur didn't bothering hiding his grin this time.

"Sylar, that wasn't very subtle of you," Peter said, not really complaining since he was enjoying himself so very much.

"Screw subtlety," Sylar said as he pushed Peter into their room and closed the door behind them. "Now tell me: that large man, he was the man who attacked you, wasn't he?"

Peter, having expected something very different, blinked. "Um, yes," he said, trying to get his bearings. "So?"

"So?" Sylar hissed. "So? Only _I_ am allowed to attack you. Or kill you. _Only_ me. No one else," he added, just in case he hadn't clarified himself enough. He thought he had but with Peter you never knew.

Peter suddenly felt inexplicably happy. Sylar was surprised a moment later when he was pushed down onto the bed. "What are you doing?" he asked, blinking on confusion. He hadn't thought anything he'd said had merited such attentions. Not that he was complaining.

"Sylar," Peter said as he brushed his lips over Sylar's face. "Shut up."

Sylar was only too happy to oblige.

***

Gwen was Lancelot-watching, her by now all-time favourite sport. He really was very nice to look at, especially when he looked as serious as he was now.

Of course, since Morgana had vanished, she really shouldn't have been there at all. Not that anyone was telling her to leave. She actually thought Uther liked her refilling his cup as much as she did. Lancelot always smiled at her when she did, no matter what he was talking to the King about. She liked that about him.

Gwen did not trip over her own feet. Well, once or twice, but never in anyone's line of sight, least of all Lancelot, thank goodness. One day Gwen was going to overcome that clumsiness (a side effect, she thought, of being friends with Merlin). Just not today, it seemed.

She glanced over at Merlin. Uther was either the blindest man in existence who wasn't physically blind or knew about his son's love affair and chose to ignore it. Since Gwen had never knowingly been disrespectful towards King Uther she chose to believe the latter. Secretly, she thought it was the former.

Uther really wasn't that blind. He knew something was going on. Not that he really cared. He'd begun to care less and less what his son got up to with that servant of his as the years went by. Plus it was just so much more interesting playing paper scissors rock with himself than it was worrying himself senseless. And Camelot needed a King who didn't always worry about trivial things like his son being in love with his servant.

Gaius, who had not been getting much sleep lately, snored softly beside the King. Uther nudged him awake. "The rabbits, they're evil..." he murmured as he snuffled back into reality. Uther ignored him and resumed his conversation with Lancelot.

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**The Dragon meets a woman! How different!**

**Review please. They are my happy drugs. In a good way, of course. **


	18. Dramatic

**Author's Note: I finally finished my essay and so am free to update! Yay for me!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

Galahad didn't know why he liked laughing manically. Many people would have simply put it down to evil traits. But somehow...there was something more to it. It was freeing and, surprisingly, very tiring. He constantly had to rest after indulging himself.

He hadn't always been like this. He remembered he had once been a nice boy. He remembered that very clearly. People had always said that to his mother. 'What a nice boy, that Galahad is. Why can't my son be like him?" Needless to say, the other boys had not been very happy with him.

He also remembered when she first came into his life. His first friend. His only friend. He'd wandered over to play by the lake – somewhere none of the other boys dared bother him; he didn't know why – and there she was, stirring the water with a stick. Unlike the other boys he was always very courteous to girls so he went up to her and said hello, in a polite way.

She'd smiled and, although he didn't realise until much later, with that smile captured his heart. He was forever hers just as she was forever his.

Sometimes she said things that didn't make sense to him. She didn't like his father very much; she called him the Ruinous One. He always defended his father even though secretly he sometimes wondered whether she was right.

It had taken him awhile to realise that he was in love. She hadn't seemed completely gobsmacked when he'd told her. But then he had been a bit obvious. What seemed to really surprise was the fact that she felt exactly the same way about him. Deep down he'd thought that she had never really been in love before, at least not like this.

Their love wasn't dramatic and it never involved fantastic displays of waterworks. Instead it was quiet and calm, with sporadic bursts of absolute passion that distorted their view of the world until they didn't know which way was up and which was down.

Galahad looked down at his feet and realised he'd burnt through the floor and was now standing on the dirt beneath. He really had to work on his control. He indulged in a burst of maniacal laughter. He was mad; control really wasn't an issue.

The last time he'd seen her was just as he touched the Holy Grail or what appeared to be the Holy Grail. He hadn't been too sure. She was so excited and kept babbling about how she'd finally figured out how to make everything right. He'd smiled down at her (she was always going on about how unfair it was that he'd turned out taller than she was) and forgot all about the Holy Grail. It really wasn't all that important.

She'd told him there would be a slight dizziness after the transfer. A slight dizziness. If only. He'd found himself in front of a very astonished Henry, a chicken leg half way to his mouth. Galahad had blinked at him in confusion...and then it hit him.

Past, present and future converged on him. He saw everything and anything and nothing. Image after image after image rushed through his head and, although they appeared too fast to see, he saw each and every one as though they were going in slow motion. Pain and fear and anger and hate and love and happiness and delight and despair and hope and wonder and shock and sadness and loss and grief and joy. Emotion assaulted him from all sides until he thought he would die. But he didn't.

He didn't.

Henry, for the first time in his entire miserable existence, felt sorry for the sobbing stranger who had interrupted his dinner. He hit him over the head. Although Galahad was now unconscious he could still see it all. As he would for a long time to come.

Galahad hated her now. Or at least he expected he should. He didn't though. This fact drove him far crazier than any of the other things. He _couldn't _hate her. So he hit out at everything else.

Including himself.

***

The explosion rocked the castle and surrounding areas. Uther stood up abruptly only to slip and slide back into his chair. He pretended that he had always meant to sit down. So there.

"What the hell just happened?" he roared at no one in particular.

Sylar was up and out of bed before Peter could register what had even happened. "Wh-what was th-that?" he stuttered as he watched Sylar pull on a shirt.

Sylar rolled his eyes and threw a shirt at Peter. "Hurry up, you imbecile. Let's go find out."

Peter hurried after him and they eventually found themselves in the courtyard, along with a frazzled looking prince and his pissed off manservant, looking up at the night sky.

"Wow," Morgana murmured as she, followed by Gwen and the rest of the dinner party, walked out into the courtyard.

Pieces of the building that had exploded were found the next day as far away as the ocean. One of them had even caused a small tsunami. Another had decimated an entire town.

Henry had pulled Galahad out of the burning building just in time. At least to Henry's mind he had. Galahad didn't seem to feel the same.

"I thought you said he had no magic!" Uther yelled. He gestured at the picture in the night sky. "What do you call that?"

Rachel looked like she'd been crying. "He's learning," she murmured. She burst into great big sobs and buried her head in her hands

Morgana glared at Uther, who looked suitably apologetic, and pulled Rachel gently back inside the castle.

When Rachel's sobs finally subsided she found herself standing in th Dragon's cave with Morgana at her side.

"I suppose this is some sort of intervention," she said sulkily.

If dragons could shrug, the Dragon would have done so, in an apologetic manner, of course. "I'm afraid so."

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**Oooh, an intervention! And an explosion before that! The DRAMA!**

**Hopefully you have figured out who 'she' is. If you haven't...well, I'll try and spell it out in the next chapter. **

**Anyway, review, please!**


	19. Confession

**Author's Note: Since it's the weekend I have far more time for updating this. So...here it is.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

Rachel folded her arms across her chest and set her lip in an incredibly stubborn manner. They weren't going to make her say anything she didn't want to.

How wrong she was.

"I've been having dreams," Morgana said calmly.

Rachel blinked. Okay, she hadn't expected that. "So?" she replied. "Do you have dreams all the time?"

Morgana smiled. "Yes," she said. "But these dreams were of specific events. Events that, until now, have made little sense. The Dragon helped," she added magnanimously.

Rachel frowned impatiently. "I don't really see what I have to do with any of this."

Morgana exchanged a glance with the Dragon. As with anything that involved a huge creature the size and shape of the Dragon, it was instantly noticeable.

"You are the instigator of every event," the Dragon rumbled. "You are the only constant in all of her dreams. This, if I'm not mistaken – and I rarely am, means that you are far more important than you claim to be. Now," his voice took on a kind tone, "tell us what you know. Tell us how you know Galahad. Tell us who you are."

Rachel had rarely been confronted by anyone. How could she when no one knew she existed. And that was what was different. Before Galahad no one had known. Before Galahad no one had cared. Before Galahad she had been invisible.

She decided she needed to sit down. This had nothing to do with the fact that her knees were wobbly. Absolutely nothing. She would swear to that in court, if need be.

She sighed shakily and opened her mouth to speak. The Dragon and Morgana hid their surprise very well. They had not expected her to tell them anything immediately.

"You know me as the Guardian of Excalibur but I am so much more than that," she began slowly. "I am part of a race which makes sure things happen in their proper places. I was meant to protect Arthur, to make sure he became a great king, to make sure he died an old man." She smiled wryly. "That didn't go so well, let me tell you."

She stopped and it was only after a few minutes that she was able to continue. "I loved Arthur, you know. I loved him with all my heart. I thought Guinevere was the perfect woman for him, well, excluding me at least. But I was wrong there as well. She wasn't even in love with him. I had read the situation all wrong. She loved Lancelot." Another wry smile graced her face. "Why didn't I see that? It was right in front of my face. Right there...and I didn't see it at all."

She took a deep breath. "And of course I missed one very important fact. Arthur didn't love her either. He loved Merlin. They hid it so well. His sudden change after Merlin's death should have told me something but I missed it yet again. As I watched the entire situation spun out of control. So I went back and tried to stop Guinevere from marrying Arthur. And again. And again. Every time the same thing happened. And I kept missing the point. I kept missing everything. I thought if I just...but none of my plans ever worked."

She ran a hand through her hair. "I was sitting beside my lake, thinking of yet another plan, when Galahad stumbled across me. I was very surprised when he saw me. No one sees me."

Morgana frowned. "But we can see you. What about that?"

She smiled. "I let you see me. If I wanted to I could disappear and you would never be able to find me. But Galahad...he could see me. He could see everything. I knew what would happen to him. I'd seen a thousand, million times. And yet...once I got to know him, I couldn't let it happen again. I loved him. He was mine as I was his. I didn't understand it. I'd thought I was in love with Arthur but that...that was nothing. Not compared to what I felt for Galahad. And yet somehow it made more sense than anything that had ever happened to me."

"So what did you try to do?" the Dragon asked. He was naturally curious. Stuff like this rarely happened around him, at least not anymore. He was intrigued.

"I told Galahad who I was." She smiled a bit sadly. "He didn't really understand but he agreed with me when I said that we were meant to be together. We came up with a plan together. He pointed out what I had always missed. He knew of his father's love for Guinevere. And he told me about the rumour concerning the king and his warlock. I would go back and change tiny things, things that wouldn't affect him being born, and then I would come back for him. I would send him back in time before things would change so he would be safe."

She took a deep breath. "But, as usual, things went wrong. I forgot that humans aren't supposed to travel through time, unless they have a certain gift for it. Galahad had no magic, at least not by any normal standard. I taught him how to focus his energy and use it to do simple things, but that was it. I forgot about the effect time travel has on humans especially if they are in such a unique situation as Galahad was. It drove him mad, seeing everything that I see on a daily basis."

"You tried to manipulate time," the Dragon said harshly. "No wonder nothing went according to plan. It's been hard enough changing simple things, like pushing Merlin and Arthur together. Changing an entire timeline would be almost impossible."

Morgana filed away that little titbit of information about the Dragon's actions for another day. "I have to agree with Mr. Big and Smokey over here," Morgana said. "Hopefully you have learnt your lesson."

"Yes," Rachel said firmly. "I will never manipulate _time _again." Neither the Dragon nor Morgana noticed the emphasis she laid on the word. Manipulating time was far too confusing, and sometimes you missed vital pieces of information. Manipulating _people _was much easier.

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**Yay! Now I have finally revealed who 'she' is I can concentrate on more important things...like Peter/Sylar and Merlin/Arthur. Much yayness all around. **

**Review please. **


	20. Payback

**Author's Note: Another update. How do I do it so quickly? Time, people. Time. Thanks to queenoftheoutlands for the inspiration at naming this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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"Do you really think I'm an idiot?" Peter asked, his arms folded stubbornly. Sylar saw that there was no getting out of this one.

He sighed and ran his fingers slowly through his hair. "Sometimes," he replied. Sylar valued honesty. Except when it was about him. He caught Peter's hurt expression and elaborated. "Well, sometimes you are, Peter. Your judgement has always been a bit iffy. That whole unrequited love for your niece, for one thing."

"Well, at least I didn't go around stroking her hair," Peter sneered then blinked. "Why did you do that anyway?"

Sylar cleared his throat nervously. "That's none of your business."

"Oh?" Peter asked. "Isn't it? She told me all about it, you know. Eventually, anyway. She said you were very creepy."

Sylar was silent. Then he spoke. "Shut up, will you?" he said bitterly. "It was stupid, anyway."

"HA!" Peter exclaimed in triumph. "So you admit you're an idiot too!"

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is about, Peter?" he said, his voice rising with every word. "You want me to admit I'm an idiot? Fine. I'm an idiot, Peter. I'm an idiot because I wanted to see what you saw in your snooty blonde cheerleader! I'm an idiot because I believed that you could feel the same way I feel about you! I'm an idiot because I'm in love with an idiot and it is DRIVING ME INSANE! I'M AN IDIOT! Does that make you happy, Peter?"

He stopped, breathing heavily.

Peter blinked at him, a small smile teasing the corner of his mouth. "Are we still arch nemeses, do you think?"

Sylar looked slightly confused. What was Peter going on about now? He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you still want to be?"

Peter nodded. "Yes."

Sylar deflated. Had what he said even made its way through Peter's skull? He shrugged again. "Fine. Whatever. We'll be arch nemeses."

"Do you think you'd mind pretending that we were?" Peter asked, walking slowly over to him. "It really is fun being your arch nemesis, Sylar. Almost as much fun," he added, taking Sylar's face in his hands. "As being in love with you. I think we could so both, yes?"

Before Sylar could answer – not that he had anything to say, he was so astonished – Peter kissed him deeply and passionately.

"You really are an idiot," Sylar said softly afterwards.

Peter grinned. "That's part of what you love about me."

Sylar matched him grin for grin. "Damn straight."

***

"Where the hell are those two?" Uther said, frustrated, referring to Peter and Sylar.

"Well," Arthur said, fiddling with a corner of his shirt. Before he could continue the two in question entered the room. Sylar had a huge grin over his face, matched with an almost exact one on Peter's face. Arthur didn't want to think about what they had been doing. It would just make him look at Merlin.

"Now," Uther said after waiting for them to settle down. Not that he really cared. "This changes nothing, understand? Everything goes ahead as planned. I have sent Gaius and a few knights to sort through the mess left by that explosion so we will be slightly depleted."

"I could help, sire," Merlin said. "There's this spell..."

Uther looked at him. He just could not muster up any surprise. Why did he even care anyway? "Why am I not surprised?"

Merlin looked apprehensive. He hadn't meant to mention spells; it had just slipped out.

Uther waved his hand vaguely. "Don't look so scared, boy. We need all the help we can get."

Arthur was astonished. Who was this man and what had he done with his father? The real Uther would have locked Merlin in the dungeons for even mentioning magic. This one didn't even seem to care.

***

The rain came down hard that night.

Gaius cursed his big mouth for insisting they set out for the villages as soon as possible. The knights accompanying him didn't seem all that happy either.

Merlin sometimes wondered why no one ever asked why he spent most nights in Arthur's chambers. Of course they did wonder. They were just too polite to say anything.

Arthur never wondered why no one said anything. He was far too busy taking full advantage of the fact.

Uther lay awake, listening to the rain. He couldn't sleep so he played paper scissors rock for a few hours before nodding off.

Morgana dreamed. At one point the rain even entered her dreams. It threw a haze over everything and the only thing that made sense were the voices of the people in the visions. What they said made a shiver creep slowly up her spine.

Gwen watched the rain through her window. Then she went to bed. Dreaming about Lancelot was far more interesting than watching the rain. Definitely.

Peter liked the feel of Sylar's skin beneath his fingers. But he loved the expression on Sylar's face when he told him he loved him. He also loved what Sylar did next.

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**How cute was that? Hopefully very cute. **

**Review please and tell me. **


	21. Dreams

**Author's Note: Tra la la...ooh, look! I updated! Much yayness all around, I'm sure.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

Rachel looked at the tip of a strand of hair she held delicately between her fingers.

Galahad watched her. "What are you doing?" he said, unable to control his curiosity any longer.

Rachel glanced up and smiled. "I'm checking for split ends."

"Why?" he asked, honestly having no idea.

Her smile upgraded into a full on grin. "Because it's fun."

He shook his head at her strangeness. "Sometimes I don't understand you."

Rachel let go of the strand of hair and made her way over to Galahad. She sat on his lap and looked him straight in the eyes. "Only sometimes?"

Galahad couldn't help himself. He pulled her face to his and pressed his lips to hers.

He pulled back after a long very satisfying moment.

It was raining. Rachel was standing in front of him, the saddest expression he'd ever seen on her face.

"What have you done?" she said.

Galahad woke up. He whimpered into his pillow and wondered when his life had started to resemble shit.

***

Morgana went down to the Dragon's cavern the next morning. She liked the Dragon. Why, she had no idea. It may have had something to do with the fact that he didn't mind it when she spoke about her dreams; in fact he expressed a naked interest.

Of course, Merlin and Gwen listened to her when she spoke of her dreams. But they were both busy with the others things and she didn't want to be a nuisance. Okay, that was a lie. She didn't mind being a nuisance. However she just couldn't stand being around a happy Merlin (whose name had been synonymous with happy ever since he and Arthur embarked on their relationship) and a dreamy Gwen (who had been distracted the moment Lancelot had arrived). Why did she have to be the only one who had no one? Life was so unfair. Damn it.

But she wasn't the only one who had no one. The Dragon didn't either. Morgana had the feeling he was a bit bored ever since his plan had been achieved. Now all he had to do was wait for Arthur to become king and make magic legal again. Then he'd be free. Hopefully he hadn't died by then. It looked to be going that way, though.

"Hello, Morgana," the Dragon rumbled. He seemed pleased. Although she hadn't yet achieved the ability to read his expressions and since his voice appeared to only have one tone – rumble – she felt he was pleased. She didn't know how she knew. She didn't like to ask. It struck her as a bit impolite.

"Hello, Dragon," Morgana replied. She sat down. There was silence.

"What was it this time?" the Dragon asked since she wasn't saying anything and he was getting pretty sick of silences.

"I didn't really see anything," Morgana began slowly. "It was mostly...voices. I recognised some of them. Peter and Gabriel. Merlin and Arthur. Rachel. Someone I assume was Galahad. He's mad, you know," she added, as though this fact hadn't been established enough.

"I know," the Dragon said, trying to quell his impatience. "Did they say anything specific?"

Morgana's brow furrowed. "I...yes! They did. Peter said that he – Galahad – was going to pay for what he had done. Then Galahad said that he knew how to kill him. And...and...I think Rachel threw the goblet at him. Or something. Then there was a lot of shouting. It wasn't really _what _they said," she added, trying to convey what the dream had made her feel. "It was _how _they said it. Peter sounded like...like his heart had been ripped out and stamped on right in front of him. He sounded so...hopeless." She shivered and was silent.

***

"What do you think that whole 'two sides of the same coin' business all about?" Sylar asked Peter when there was a lull in the training of the knights in the courtyard. Arthur had wandered over because Merlin was near them.

Merlin froze. "What?" he spluttered. "What did you say?"

Peter blinked in confusion at his reaction. "It's what Morgana said, about us," he answered, indicating Sylar and himself with a wave of his hand. "Two sides of the same coin. That's what she said. Why? Do you know something?"

Merlin sighed. "It means your lives are entwined. The Dragon said it about me and Arthur."

Arthur's eyes softened. "Really? He said that?" At Merlin's nod, Arthur grinned. "He is _so _coming out of that cavern when I'm King, mark my words."

Peter grinned and punched Sylar lightly in the arm. "Did you hear that?" he asked. "Our lives are entwined."

Sylar smiled. "You really are slow, Peter. I've known that for years."

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**Hmm. I'm going to wait for reviews before I say anything about a thought that just occurred to me. So review please and find out. Damn straight. **


	22. Uneventful

**Author's Note: It may seem like I'm drawing this out. Shut up. Thanks to comedyforever1117 for the idea of the two headed cat – although it was for a different story :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin.**

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Uther stared at his hands. He had just lost to himself. And, in a funny way, won against himself as well. Ah, the paradox of playing paper scissors rock with oneself. He was getting a bit bored. When was Rachel going to tell him to take the men and fight Galahad?

Wait a minute. He was King. He didn't have to wait while some namby pamby girl got her act together. He would leave with his knights whenever he felt like it.

Just not now. So he played another game of paper scissors rock. For a change.

***

"I have this really bad feeling," Peter said, his brow furrowed.

Sylar looked over at him. "Well, no wonder, Peter," he replied lazily. "That shirt would terrify any human being. I'm a pretty terrifying guy, if I do say so myself, and that shirt ain't giving me warm fuzzy feelings."

Peter's face fell. Not literally though. That would just be disgusting. "You don't like this shirt?" he said, his tone conveying just the right amount of miserable to get what he wanted. "What's wrong with it?"

Sylar stood up with a sigh and went over to Peter. He looked down at the shirt. "It has frills," he said, his lip curling in distaste. "_Frills_, Peter."

Peter widened his eyes to appear innocent. "You don't like frills?"

Sylar narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What are you trying to do, Peter?"

"Nothing." Peter sniffed for good measure.

Sylar was very fast. And he didn't even have super speed. He was kissing Peter before he – and even Peter – could contemplate doing anything else.

He broke away a moment later, breathing heavily. He looked at Peter's dreamy face. "You know, Peter, you don't have to play games. You can just ask."

"But games are just so much more _fun_," Peter said before kissing Sylar.

***

"Arthur?" Merlin asked. "What are you doing?"

Arthur jumped and spun around. He looked very guilty. "Nothing." He utilised his Prince Expression – the one he used when he had to pretend that everything was just all fine and dandy and that he agreed with every word his father said. It had served him well over the years.

He should have remembered that Merlin always saw through it.

He tried to stuff it behind of him as he grinned over at Merlin. "I'm not doing anything."

Merlin raised one eyebrow. Damn eyebrow.

Arthur sighed in a very gusty way. "Fine, you caught me."

Merlin smiled smugly. "I always do."

"Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "You...just have to come over here, okay? It's not really something I can describe."

Merlin was immediately intrigued. Something that defies description always gets this reaction.

Merlin looked at the creature in Arthur's hand. Okay. That wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"It's a cat," he said, his voice deadpan.

"Yeah," Arthur said.

"With two heads," Merlin continued. He blinked. "Where the hell did you find it?"

"It just appeared in my room one day," Arthur said defensively. Why was he so defensive all of a sudden? He hadn't done anything wrong! In fact, it was probably all Merlin's fault! One of his experiments gone horribly wrong! That was it. Right. "It's very friendly."

The two headed cat showed this friendliness by purring as Arthur stroked it. It looked at Merlin with four rather uninterested eyes.

"It has two heads," Merlin said. This seemed to bother him.

"Yes, it does," Arthur said impatiently. "So...what do you think?" Why this mattered to Arthur he didn't know. After all it was all Merlin's fault anyway. Right.

Merlin blinked. "What do I think about what?"

Arthur snorted with impatience. "What do you think about having them as pets?"

"Really?" Merlin breathed, his eyes shining. A complete transformation came over him. Suddenly it didn't matter that Arthur was holding a two headed cat. And it was rather cute...

Arthur grinned. "Really really."

A few hours later, they lay watching the two headed cat chasing its tail. It gave a completely new dimension to this age old cat custom.

"What do you want to call them?" Merlin said, tracing a finger down Arthur's arm.

"Um, well, I was thinking of calling that one Buffy and the other one Joey," he replied lazily. "What do you think?"

"Buffy?" Merlin asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"It fits him," Arthur said defensively. Why was he always so defensive around Merlin? Damn that warlock.

Merlin watched the cat a bit more and then nodded his head slowly. "It does."

Arthur smiled smugly. "Of course it does. I thought of it."

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**Another chapter done. Hopefully, it was good. **

**Review please. Unlike frilly shirts they _do _give Sylar warm fuzzy feelings. Me too. :)**


	23. Argument

**Author's Note: Not the longest chapter in the world but it does the trick. Hopefully.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

"That cat has two heads," Peter said in a matter of fact way.

"No, Peter," Sylar said, hand on his chest, sarcasm rife in his voice. "You don't say." He stroked Buffy's head with one finger. "What are their names?" he added, directing his question to Merlin and Arthur.

"This one's Buffy," Merlin said, pointing at the head Sylar had been stroking. "And that one's Joey." He stroked Joey's head.

"How can you tell the difference?" Peter asked, perching on the edge of the bed the others were lying on, surrounding Buffy and Joey, who were cuddled into the blanket, blinking sleepily.

"Well," Merlin said and then looked over at Arthur for guidance.

"Buffy's head is slightly bigger than Joey's," Arthur said sleepily, his head on level with the cats'.

Sylar brought his head down to the eye level of the cats' and peered at them. "What do you know," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "It is."

"Buffy is the cutest, most fantastic cat in the world," Arthur said in a tone usually found around babies. "Aren't you, sweetie pie?" He stroked Buffy's head gently. Buffy rumbled.

"No," Merlin said patiently. "_Joey _is the most awesome cat that has ever lived. Get your facts right."

Arthur glared at him. "No, _Buffy _is."

"Joey."

"Buffy."

"Joey."

"Buffy."

"Well, I think they're both very cute," Peter interrupted, stroking Buffy and Joey in an equal sort of way. Sylar smiled at him.

"As do I," Sylar agreed.

There was a silence from the prince and the warlock, broken when Merlin held out his hand, a stern expression on his face. "Agree to disagree?"

Arthur grinned. "Damn straight." They shook hands.

A comfortable silence ensued in which they marvelled silently at the wonders that were Buffy and Joey.

After a few minutes of such activity Sylar asked, "Has anyone seen Rachel around? She seems to have disappeared."

"Yeah," Merlin answered. "She's preparing the goblet for whatever it's meant for. I asked her if she needed any help. Practically bit my head off." He went from stroking Joey's head to stroking Arthur's arm.

"Looks fine to me," Arthur said, referring to Merlin's not-bitten-off head. Merlin chuckled.

Peter and Sylar glanced at each other. They then stood up almost simultaneously and bid goodbye to Merlin, Arthur and the two headed cat. And then beat a hasty retreat.

"You know what they were going to do, don't you?" Peter asked as they walked down the corridor to their room.

"Probably the same thing we're going to do when we get to our room," Sylar replied as he almost broke down the door, pushing Peter roughly inside and slamming the door behind him.

"Well, there's not much to do until we finally leave," Peter commented as Sylar ripped his clothes off. "And no one to talk to. Morgana's always off with the Dragon doing who-knows-what, Gwen's mooning over Lancelot, Arthur and Merlin have their two headed cat, Rachel's off doing experiments, you alienated Gaius with your rudeness and all Uther does is play paper scissors rock with himself. Not exactly the most interesting conversation in the world."

"Oh , so this is just a convenience for you," Sylar said, breathing rather heavily.

Peter stopped what he was doing and gazed at him with the most serious expression Sylar had ever seen on his face. "Never."

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**Aww. Cuteness. The argument Arthur and Merlin have over who is the best cat, Buffy or Joey, is an argument I have had many times. **

**Review please. **


	24. It's Time

**Author's Note: Oh powers that be, I think I'm actually thickening the plot or whatever you call it. Yay me! I do feel proud. Anyway...here it is. Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

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Rachel pushed the stopper in the vial in her hands and looked at it for a moment. It really was very small. She could stop everything right now. She could drop it on the floor and watch it shatter into a million bright glittering pieces and see the liquid spill onto the floor, useless. She could. But she wouldn't.

She picked up the goblet, sitting on the bench in front of her, and put it in her knapsack along with the vial. Now she was ready.

Thank the powers that be she'd been able to get rid of Merlin. He knew the incantations she would have to say over the liquid and over the goblet. He would know she had not said the incantation that would mean painful death. Thus he wouldn't be able to stop her when she gave Galahad the goblet filled with the liquid.

Now that phase of the plan was complete she snapped her fingers.

On the other side of the castle Uther blinked. He looked down at his hands. The left one was bunched into a fist. The right one was laid out flat. He blinked again and looked outside. It was nearing night again.

What? Where had all the time gone? And what was he doing with his hands?

He stood up in a hurry and was about to summon a servant, who could possibly tell him what the hell was going on, when Rachel burst in. "It's time, Sire," she said.

Uther blinked again and looked down at his offending hands. He shook his head as if to clear it of any residual mist and straightened. "Right," he said, the assurance in his tone having returned. "Get a servant in here. Warn my son and the knights. Tomorrow, we ride!"

Rachel walked out and told the first servant she met that the King needed him. He ran in the direction of the King's chambers, terrified out of his mind (since he'd never done anything of the sort before) but also ready to be of service. His mother would be so proud.

She didn't care what she interrupted when she went to warn Arthur and the knights. Well...not at first. Some of it made her hide a grin. Others made her wish she'd knocked.

She finally made her way to Peter and Gabriel's room, having just left Lancelot's lodgings a bit red in the face having found Gwen there. Not doing anything (hopefully) according to Gwen but still. She decided to knock, having seen a bit too much that night. Really, a girl could only handle so much nakedness. It was like a castle-wide epidemic, it seemed.

She heard a few curses as she waited, slightly impatiently, for someone to open the door. She knocked again thus ensuing more cursing. She grinned. Okay, some of this was fun. It certainly took her mind off...other things.

"What the fu..." Sylar started to growl as he wrenched the door open. Seeing her there he stopped. "Uh, what?" he continued, rather embarrassed, although he didn't know why.

"Uther told me to tell Arthur and the knights that they'll be riding out tomorrow. I thought you'd like to know," she replied, trying not to take too much pleasure from his discomfort.

"Sylar?" Peter said sleepily from behind him. "Who is it?"

"Rachel," he answered, taking his eyes off her for a minute to speak to Peter. "She says the knights will be riding out tomorrow. Do you have everything ready?" he asked her.

She nodded. It really hadn't turned out so bad, her bringing Peter here. Of course she hadn't expected hitchhikers but you couldn't have everything. And Peter didn't seem to be complaining. At least not from what she could see. It really had been for the best.

"So be prepared," she said. "You know what you have to do?"

They nodded almost simultaneously. It was rather cute.

***

Galahad opened his eyes and sat up at the same time. Henry shivered. Really, his master wasn't human. He couldn't be.

"It's time," Galahad murmured, his eyes glazed. He shook his head after a moment then looked over at Henry. "You have everything ready?"

Henry nodded slowly. "'Taint natural, master," he added, a stubborn expression on his open face. Galahad watched with curiosity. "What you're doing, master, 'taint right." He sniffed.

Galahad smiled. It was a very twisted smile. "I gave up on 'right' and 'natural' a long time ago, Henry," he said. "They haven't really done much for my complexion." He sniggered at his own joke.

Henry smiled uneasily. Sometimes he didn't understand what his master said. And sometimes, in a weird disgusting way, he did. It was like...they were connected or something. It, as his master had said at one point, freaked him out.

As he went past his manservant on his way to rally his troops he paused. Henry waited for him to say something. He never did. He just shook his head and moved on.

A few minutes later he surveyed his troops with a big mad grin suffusing his face. Really, he had to pat himself on the back. His plan was so crazy it just might work. He indulged in a bit of maniacal laughter to prepare himself for the battle that was to come.

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**Mwahahahahaha! Can anyone guess why Henry is disgusted? It is revealed next chapter (maybe) but it would be nice to get some ideas. **

**Review please. **


	25. Flying

**Author's Note: Busy day today but I managed to write this. Hopefully it is good. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

Uther, Arthur, Merlin and the knights rode out at first light. Peter, Sylar and Morgana were allowed to sleep in since Peter could teleport and Morgana was, much to her surprise, going to be riding the Dragon, who was a little shocked, let me tell you. He hadn't realised the prince had such persuasive skills. But, he conceded, he'd need them, being a royal and all.

"You know, it pays to have a boyfriend who can teleport," Sylar said as he watched Peter.

Peter went very still. "I'm your boyfriend?" he asked, a small hint of wonder colouring his voice.

Sylar shook his head in despair at his slowness. "You really are the _slowest_ person I have _ever _met," he said. "And that includes Matt's tortoise. And yes," he added, for Peter's benefit. "You are my boyfriend."

"Oh, well..." Peter said, a huge grin on his face. He punched the air half heartedly. "Yay."

Sylar just rolled his eyes. Within moments they were gone.

"Dragon, you really don't mind, do you?" Morgana asked her friend, worry in her eyes.

The Dragon sighed gustily. "No, Morgana, I really don't," he rumbled.

After a bit of hesitation, and some rather clumsy tries, Morgana managed to make her way onto the Dragon's back. She congratulated herself silently and then made the mistake of looking down. She hadn't realised how _high _the Dragon really was. She gulped.

"The brave Lady Morgana, afraid of heights?" the Dragon teased her, trying to make her forget about her fear.

"Shut it, you," Morgana said, trying not to vomit. His voice certainly helped. She felt his rumble right in her...oops. She'd forgotten about that. Dammit. She vomited over the side, trying to miss the Dragon's scales. She succeeded...partially. "Sorry."

The Dragon rumbled. Morgana gritted her teeth and tried to stop her eyes from rolling back. It was difficult but she succeeded. Sort of. "Are you ready now?" he asked gently after awhile.

"No," Morgana said.

He rumbled and was suddenly up in the air. Morgana instantly forgot her fear – and that other feeling – in the exhilaration of flying.

***

Galahad grinned. "She really has brought together a rainbow of characters, hasn't she, Henry?"

Henry sulked nearby. He didn't like what his master was doing. He grumbled in reply.

"Oh, Henry!" Galahad exclaimed, trying to hold back a grin. He really didn't understand why he was so darn cheerful but he wasn't in the mood to question it. "You're not still sulking over my troops, are you?"

Henry muttered under his breath and Galahad was able to catch one word: unnatural. He grinned. Really, Henry was just so quaint.

***

The Dragon landed gracefully. Not so for Morgana. She sort of sat there grinning and then slowly slid off, landing with a thump on the very hard ground.

Merlin rushed to her side, being a true gentleman (unlike Arthur who was laughing his ass off), but by the time he had reached her she had risen to her feet and was wobbling off in some random direction, a grin plastered to her face.

Gwen followed, giving very subtle directions to her mistress (read: moved in front of her whenever she went the wrong way – this obviously led to some difficulty since Morgana believed whole heartedly that the way she was going was the right way). "So the flying must have been marvellous, my lady?" she asked on one of these many instances.

"What?" Morgana said, a small frown creasing her brow as she slowly made her way in the direction Gwen was pushing her towards. Gwen repeated the question. Morgana began giggling. "Oh. The _flying_. Right." She giggled quietly to herself

"I don't remember flying having that much effect on me," Peter said.

The Dragon gave him a Look. Peter could feel the capitalisation. "Obviously you've never flown with a Dragon," he replied. Peter got the impression that he was some sort of snob. It didn't really surprise him.

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**Hmmm, that thought is still there. It has been germinating and I think I might actually go through with it. **

**Review please. **


	26. Night

**Author's Note: Uh, yeah. Another one. I know – shock, horror! How does she do it? Hope you like it. Thanks to queenoftheoutlands for making me continue on with the germinating thought.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

It was night. Morgana realised this because she couldn't see very far in front of her. And then she forgot about it as she made her way towards where she knew instinctively the Dragon was (mostly because the darkness was just slightly more so where he was). That, uh, flying thing was still affecting her. After this was all over she'd probably want to go again. She felt the addiction coming on. She didn't really care.

She sat beside the Dragon. He watched her. "Do you like being free?" she asked out of the blue, trying to distract herself from thinking about the, uh, flying thing.

"It is much better than being stuck down in that cavern, that's for sure," the Dragon replied in –shock, horror – a rumble. Morgana tried to quell certain thoughts. She partially succeeded.

"Are you going to kill Uther?" she asked, curious.

The Dragon gazed at her. "Do you want me to?"

Morgana opened her mouth then closed it. She frowned. That was a tricky question because she hated Uther with something akin to a fiery passion and yet...he seemed to be going downhill in the mental department lately. Always playing paper scissors rock with himself. It just wasn't healthy. Paper scissors rock was a game played between two people. It just didn't make sense with one person.

She finally shook her head. "No right now." She perked up. "But if he does anything iffy you have my permission to do what you think is necessary, okay?"

The Dragon rumbled. Down, thoughts! Down! "As you wish."

Very comfortable silence followed. Morgana had never felt that sort of silence before. Well, maybe with Gwen but now that Lancelot was in the picture she didn't see Gwen all that much anymore. She didn't really mind. After all she could dress herself. But still...it was nice having a friend who listened and who cared. At least, that's what she thought anyway.

"You're my best friend, did you know that?" Morgana said, breaking that comfortable silence but in a good way. "I've always wanted to meet someone who listened, and cared, and didn't think I was a freak for dreaming about the future. I thought it was impossible. I mean, there's Gwen and Merlin but...they just weren't...you know? And then I met you." She laughed. "My best friend is a Dragon. I really am a freak."

"Or incredibly lucky," the Dragon replied. "Not many people can claim their best friend is a Dragon. Unless," he added, after a thought struck him, "they're referring to the person's temper."

"Like Uther," Morgana said, since she couldn't resist a little teasing.

The Dragon – if Dragons could – blanched. "Don't you dare compare me to that...that..." He noticed Morgana's grin. "Shut up," he grumbled.

***

"Gwen?" Lancelot asked.

"Yes?" she replied, snuggling up to him.

"When this is all over do you want to run away and get married?"

Gwen gazed up at him. "Finally," she said. "I thought you'd never ask."

Lancelot grinned.

***

"After this is all over do you want to go back?"

Sylar moved onto his side to get a better look at Peter. "I don't know. I'm pretty happy where I am right now. What about you?" he asked, since he knew Peter quite well by now.

Peter sighed. "I really don't know. I mean, on the one hand I want to go back and see my brother and everyone else..." He paused. "But on the other hand I want to stay here and be with you. I don't think we're going to survive if we go back."

"Your friends are idiots," Sylar said, frustrated. He really hadn't wanted to think about that.

"You know, we don't usually agree on this issue but now I have to agree with you. My friends really are idiots," Peter said vehemently. He thought a bit. "Wait. Does that mean your friends wouldn't mind?"

Sylar shrugged. "They're not dumb. They know how I feel. And it means they can stop pretending they're not sleeping together behind my back."

Peter's eyebrows shot up. "_Elle _and _Adam_? You've got to be joking."

Sylar shook his head. "Nope," he said, enjoying every minute. "Not joking at all."

Peter could only say one word, "Wow."

Sylar sniggered. Peter glared at him. "Shut up."

Sylar raised his hands in mock surrender. "I never said a word."

Peter paid him back that night. Not that Sylar complained about the payback.

***

"Do you think they'll be über surprised about my boys, Henry?" Galahad said, clapping his hands in childish glee.

Henry grumbled to himself.

Galahad pouted. "You're no fun. Why did I pick a manservant who's no fun?"

***

"Look," Merlin said, pointing. "Look! Isn't that the cutest thing you ever did see?"

Arthur gushed. "Oh gods, yes. Cutest thing _ever_."

They watched Buffy and Joey attacking the piece of string Merlin dangled in front of them.

"Do you think we should be sleeping?" Merlin asked awhile later.

Arthur blinked sleepily and gazed at the sleeping Buffy and Joey beside him. "Probably. It'll be a long day tomorrow. Full of battles...and fighting...and death...and blood..." His snores filled the tent.

Merlin watched him. "Depress me, why don't you?" he said before falling asleep next to his prince. Soon his snores were mingling with those of Arthur.

***

Rachel pulled the blanket over her head and grumbled. Damn them. Why was everyone not sleeping? She decided to double damn them. Tomorrow. She was a bit too tired right now...

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**So...? I wonder if anyone has ever watched the Princess Bride. Yeah, that's a clue. **

**Review please. **


	27. Death

**Author's Note: Okay. I updated. Yay. This is longer than I usually write. This also made me sad when I was writing it *sniffles***

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

"Are they all out there?" Galahad asked, barely containing his glee.

Henry sighed. "Yes, master. They're all out there. Even Rachel."

A momentary black cloud passed over Galahad's face at that name. "Oh," he said then cheered right up at the thought of what was to come. "Wait 'til she sees my boys." He clapped his hands numerous times with childish glee.

He looked out of the forces amassed by Uther and grinned. "They've really gone all out, haven't they, Henry?"

Henry nodded. He really didn't want to be around when they saw the army Galahad had made. He felt like running away. He decided to when Galahad was distracted, something that was bound to happen with a battle and Rachel involved.

Galahad smiled. "And don't you think of running away. I want you to see what happens." Henry whimpered.

Galahad brought his hands together in one single clap. The echoes resounded throughout the valley.

Peter frowned. "What's that noise?"

Sylar rolled his eyes. "The guy up there just clapped. Keep up."

Peter shook his head. "No, not that. That other sound...like a scrabbling?" He paused and heard it again. "There! There it is! Did you hear it?"

Sylar was pale. He pulled at Peter's shirt. "I don't need to hear it." He pointed. "I can pretty much see the source from right here."

Peter looked up from his concentration. He at first saw nothing and then he focused on what Sylar was pointing at.

"Oh."

Line upon unending line of soldiers marched slowly down the valley walls in front of them. Peter frowned again. "Why are they walking like that? All wonky..." His eyes widened and he glanced at Sylar, who looked like he was going to be sick. "They're dead, aren't they?" he whispered.

Sylar merely nodded.

"Okay, I don't want to freak anyone out," Arthur said. "But how are we going to fight an army of dead people?"

Uther tightened his grip on the sword in his hand. "They can't fight without heads so aim for the neck."

Sylar grinned upon hearing that. "Oh, that will be no problem."

A moment later the valley resounded with Uther's shouted, "Charge!"

The armies came together with a crash...well, actually it was more of a squish. The bodies fell apart pretty quickly and yet more kept coming. You took out one and three more were there to take its place. Peter had thought that only happened in books.

He looked over at Sylar, who appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. Really, he sometimes forgot that Sylar enjoyed this sort of stuff.

Sylar grinned a feral grin at him and then he paused. A frown furrowed his brow. "What...?" he whispered. He looked down at his chest.

Galahad pulled the Knife out of his back and Sylar fell to the ground without a sound. He laughed at Peter's expression. "And don't think you can use your blood to heal either, Peter," he said, between sniggers. He twirled the bloody Knife. "Excalibur isn't the only magical weapon in the world. I found this Knife...well, I don't want to bore you with a long story. Suffice to say that a lovely lady gave it to me..." He frowned.

While Galahad had been gloating Peter had stumbled over to Sylar's body, ignoring the carnage taking place around him. In a surprisingly close background a soldier slid his sword into Morgana's gut and she fell to the ground.

Peter looked up at Galahad, as he cradled Sylar in his arms, and roared. Everyone, including the reanimated corpses, stopped. Peter's cry held so much pain. It reached into their subconscious and made them remember the most painful memory of their lives, multiple it by one thousand and let it boil over. The ground began to shake as he lost control, his skin turning white with heat. The Dragon's roar mingled with his.

Galahad was stunned. Peter stood up. "What have you done." It was said so quietly. It wasn't even a question. He repeated it. "What have you done." He pointed his finger at Galahad's forehead, his eyes filled with pain and loathing.

A cry from Rachel made him pause and frown but only for a second. But in that second Rachel was able to pull Galahad's mouth open and pour the contents of the goblet down his throat. Galahad choked but she dropped the goblet and merely held his mouth closed with her fingers until he swallowed.

He looked at her and then imploded in a burst of white light. Of course he didn't die. He'd expected to but then, that would have been too easy. And his life could never have been described as easy – why would it start now? Instead everything that had driven him crazy made sense. All of those feelings that overwhelmed him were manageable.

"What did you do to me?" he gasped, clutching his throat.

She shrugged. "Saved you."

The remaining liquid from the goblet ran into the ground and seemed to set off in a certain direction.

Peter fell to his knees and cradled Sylar in his arms. Of course he knew that Sylar could heal but he remembered what Galahad had said. That Knife was magical. What if Sylar was really dead? What if he couldn't heal?

"How could you do this?" he shouted at Galahad and Rachel both, tears streaming down his face. "He's dead and it's all your fault."

Rachel smiled. "He's not dead. He's just faking."

Peter paused, his expression twisted into a sort of comical hope. "What...?" He looked down at Sylar and shook him.

Sylar opened his eyes and grumbled. "Spoil sport," he said to Rachel, who just rolled her eyes.

"You...were faking?" Peter asked.

Sylar shook his head. "Not the _whole _time. But I may have prolonged it." He shrugged. "You _did _say you liked games." He smirked.

Peter's fist came out of nowhere. "You bastard!" he snarled but before Sylar could defend himself Peter's lips were pressed against his. He didn't really feel like defending himself after that.

The Dragon flew down and landed beside Morgana's dead body. He squished some of the corpses, who had all fallen down when Rachel had force fed Galahad. He roared.

Arthur moved towards the Dragon and caught a glimpse of her. "Morgana...?" he whispered, suddenly sounding like a little lost puppy. He fell to his knees. Merlin held him as he cried.

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**Since this is, well, me, I order you **_**not to worry**_**. Okay? Okay. **

**Review please. **


	28. A Choice

**Author's Note: This is much shorter than the last one. So...yeah. Be prepared for...shortness. Oh, and thanks to all of those at the Merthur forum for the idea of the Dragon's nickname. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

The remaining liquid from the goblet sped across the ground as Arthur cried and the Dragon roared and hissed at anyone who came near. The liquid touched her hand.

Morgana wasn't _completely _dead; otherwise the liquid would not have worked. She was just sort of dead which is much better, let me tell you.

She opened her eyes. She was in a room. It was white. It was black. It was both at the same time. This meant that more often than not her eyes watered.

Something moved in the corners, along the walls, on the ceiling. Out of the corner of her eye she saw whispering shadows and tricks of the light.

"You have a choice," a voice said. The shadows and tricks of light began moving faster. "Immortality or death. Choose...or we will choose for you."

Morgana wasn't scared. In a part of her mind she felt this was a bit implausible but somehow she wasn't. She took a deep breath and said, "Look into my heart and you will find your answer."

She felt something reached through her chest as the shadows and tricks of light around the wall whispered and muttered. "Oh," the voice said. "Well, well, well..."

There was a sort of quiet for a moment then the voice said, "So mote it be."

There was a sound like someone snapping their fingers and then she opened her eyes. Again. She blinked.

The Dragon noticed first. "Morgana..." he whispered in her mind. She smiled as his eyes widened when he saw what was going to happen.

"Move," she said. Everyone stayed where they were, mostly because they hadn't heard her. "Move!" she shouted and this time everyone heard her.

Morgana exploded in a burst of white light. Everyone grabbed onto something as air rushed away from the space she was starting to take up.

"What the hell is happening?" Arthur yelled, trying to keep a hold on Merlin as well as a nearby tree.

The wind disappeared and they dropped into a pile beside the tree. Exclamations of pain emanated from the pile for awhile afterwards. When they finally untangled themselves they both gasped simultaneously at the sight before them.

There was not one, but two Dragons. One of them was just slightly smaller than the other. Arthur frowned, not seeing Morgana. "Where did Morgana go?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Did either of you sit on her?"

The slightly bigger Dragon snorted. "No, Arthur," she said in Morgana's voice. "I did not sit on myself."

Peter tore his lips from Sylar's and gazed at the two Dragons. "Sylar, where did the other Dragon come from?" he asked since he knew he was a bit slow and usually Sylar knew more than he did.

"Huh?" Sylar replied, wondering why Peter had stopped kissing him. "What?"

Peter rolled his eyes.

Rachel and Galahad stared up at the two Dragons. "I don't understand how this happened," Rachel said, frowning. "The potion was meant for Galahad, and only him. This must be some sort of side effect of you not being, well, him."

Morgana the Dragon shook her head. "No. I just had a choice." She turned to the Dragon. "You know, since you're not the last of the Dragons anymore, I really should stop calling you Dragon. So what's your name?"

The Dragon whispered it into her ear. She smiled. "Well, now. That's something," she said. "But since I'd rather keep that a secret I'm going to call you Sparky in public."

He glared at her. "You were going to call me that whether or not I told you my name, weren't you?"

"Yup." She grinned cheekily.

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**So...yeah. Oh my goodness, I have a new pairing (by the way that was the thought germinating in my mind). But the story is not over yet so wait *impatiently* for more.**

**Review please. **


	29. Taking Care Of Business

**Author's Note: Okay, I think I was a dirty in this chapter. Tell me if you think so. And it is certainly longer than the last chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

"So now that all that hullabaloo is over with what are you going to do?" Merlin asked Rachel and Galahad, who were sitting in across from him.

Rachel giggled as Galahad whispered in her ear. "Well, there are a few things I still have to take care of," she said. "But afterwards I thought I might show Galahad the ropes, maybe go on holiday. I hear New Zealand's nice this time of year."

Merlin quirked an eyebrow. "The ropes? There are ropes?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

Arthur smacked him on the arm. "Yeah, otherwise you'll miss what's coming next."

"What's coming next?" Merlin looked confused. "How do you know what's coming next? And why would I be missing it?"

Arthur shook his head. "You really are an idiot." He rubbed his hands together in readiness. "So, come on. What things do you have to take care of?"

"Well, I really shouldn't have put that spell on your father," she began only to be interrupted.

"What?!" Arthur exclaimed, rushing to his feet. "You put a spell on my _father_?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. Why else would he keep playing paper scissors rock with himself all the time?"

Arthur blinked and sat down slowly. "Oh. Right."

Rachel waited but it didn't seem as though there'd be any more interruptions. "Anyway, your father may begin to deteriorate...uh, _mentally_. So it would probably be good if he, you know, _abdicated_. Just to be sure."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You weren't spying on a particular council meeting earlier today by any chance, were you?"

It was Rachel's turn to blink. "No, why?"

"No reason," Arthur said, leaning back. "Continue."

"Right..." She waited a bit then continued. "So...you know what you're meant to do, right? You and Merlin bring magic back to the land. No more of this "it's magic – kill it" business, okay? And play nice with the other kids. I want nice, clean fun."

Arthur pouted. "So...no battles?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Jousts?"

She thought. "Maybe...but only if the Dragons are allowed to supervise. You two are very precious to this kingdom."

"Oh, _we _weren't going to do any jousting – Merlin can't, anyway – it just all of those sweaty men..." Arthur's eyes grew dreamy. Merlin smacked his arm.

"Ow," Arthur said, glaring at Merlin while rubbing his very sore arm. "You were thinking it too."

Galahad rolled his eyes. "I really don't see what you saw in him," he said to Rachel.

She looked a bit panicked. "Right. Yes. Um, so where was I? Right. Next thing." She took a deep breath as Arthur and Merlin looked on in amusement. "Where exactly did Peter and Gabriel disappear to?"

Arthur looked at Merlin who shrugged. "Don't know," Arthur said. "Last I heard, Peter was punishing Gabriel pretty bad for faking his death. But," he added after a moment. "I think I remember Peter saying something about yelling if we needed them? Merlin? Do you remember that?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. I think his exact words were 'If you need us, give us a yell. And, uh, don't need us, okay?'" He nodded again.

Arthur frowned. "I don't remember that last bit."

Merlin tapped the side his head. "Mind stuff, baby."

Rachel stood up. "Peter. Gabriel. Get your asses down here this instant!"

Only a few seconds passed. Galahad was impressed. He wouldn't have been that quick.

Peter and Sylar entered, grumbling. Well, Peter was grumbling. Sylar couldn't be stuffed grumbling – he just grinned at anything that moved and a lot of things that didn't.

"What?" Peter – shock, horror! – grumbled. "We were in the middle of something very important."

"You have a choice to make," Rachel said, ignoring him and getting to the serious part very quickly.

"Hey...isn't that...?" Galahad began, pointing out of the window. Everyone shushed him.

"What kind of choice?" Peter said sulkily. He'd been enjoying himself – Peter _did not _like being interrupted during moments like that. They rarely came around.

"Well, either I send you back to your own time or you stay here," she replied, hoping that he wouldn't ask that question. "Pretty simple, really."

Peter's eyes narrowed. Damn. "Wait. _You _can send us back? Did you bring us here?"

Rachel looked guilty. "Yes," she said very quietly.

"Oh," Peter said. "Thank you."

Rachel blinked. Had he just said that? She tried to muster some semblance of dignity. "Right. Anyway. Um. So, you have a choice. Now, I should probably tell you that if you choose to go back you won't remember anything that happened unless, well, since I'm pretty powerful I could probably do something for you if you asked nicely..."

"You brought us here," Peter said, his voice hard. "I think you owe us that."

"Phew," she said, relieved. Thank goodness, he was angry. His niceness had put her off guard a bit. "Well, yes, I do. You will remember if you kiss within five minutes of being sent back. Otherwise you will not remember anything."

"Well, that's stupid," Merlin said.

She shrugged. "What can you do? You always have to add a little 'can they actually do it in time?' It's a rule and everything." She turned back to Peter and Sylar. "So? Are you ready to make the choice?"

Peter looked at Sylar to find him gazing back. Then he turned back. "It's been great, hanging out with you guys. Really, it has. But sometimes people need...amenities to survive. Like a shower, for instance."

"Ooh, and a TV, don't forget that," Sylar chimed in.

Peter nodded. "Right. So I think we'll choose to go back."

"But what if you don't kiss in time?" Arthur asked. In the background Galahad had stood up and wandered over to the window, frowning.

Peter smiled at an equally smiling Sylar and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Oh, we'll kiss in time. Don't you worry about that."

Rachel was silent for a moment then nodded to herself. "Right. Go stand over there." She motioned them to go stand by the door.

Just as she raised her arms Sylar asked, "Will things be different, by the way? With Arthur having ruled for many many years?"

Rachel grinned. "Oh yes." She lowered her arms in a very grand gesture, if she said so herself.

They were gone.

"Okay, now that that's taken care of will you listen to me now?" Galahad said, a little peeved.

Rachel sighed. "What is it now, honey?"

Galahad pointed. "Isn't that Father and Guinevere galloping away on that white horse?"

They gathered around the window. All except Arthur who, upon hearing the words 'white horse,' looked absolutely shit scared and ran out of the room, shouting, "Nooo! Come back! Come back, Binky!"

After awhile Merlin followed, rolling his eyes. Stupid Lancelot. Really shouldn't have taken the prince's – well, soon be the King's – favourite horse. On second thought, it was probably Gwen's idea. One last joke. She'd pay dearly.

Rachel glanced over at Galahad and shrugged. "Kids. What're you going to do with them?"

Galahad grinned and pulled her into his arms. "Now...where were we before they interrupted?"

"I think...right about here..."

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**THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER, OKAY?**

**Review, please. **


	30. Remember

**Author's Note: This **_**was **_**going to be the last chapter but since a certain someone (you know who you are) wanted a bit of dragon love there will be more. Just one more though. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin – if I did, don't you think I'd be making this happen for real?**

**__________________________________________________________________________________**

Peter blinked.

_...so I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on out sometime? _Sylar was thinking as he wiped the counter, something he did when he was getting increasingly more frustrated with himself. Shyness is a crippling disease. _Because I might actually maybe...love you. I think you're kind of hot. _He backtracked. _Not that this is all about looks. I love it when you call me Sylar, even though I don't know why you do. I love it when you push your hair back and smile that crooked smile of yours...and why don't I just say all this out loud? Why? Just say it...go on... _He looked up at Peter, who was fiddling with the spoon in his cup. _Dammit. Why do I always chicken out? _

Peter smiled into his cup as he drank. When was Sylar going to realise that he could read minds? Probably when he told him. They'd had a weird relationship. It had started with the old eyes-meet-across-a-crowded-room-in-hate kind of deal. They'd been rivals all through high school – Sylar had thought Peter was a stuck up goody two shoes who had never worked a day in his life and Peter thought Sylar – who at first _hated _being called that – was a tight ass with a stick shoved where the sun don't shine. It was only in college that they became sort of friends – mostly through their mutual friendship with Elle Bishop and Adam Monroe, who were now happily married.

Once Sylar had acquired his business and food tech degrees and opened his own diner, Arch-Nemeses, things changed. It had started with grudging respect – mostly because Sylar, even though he couldn't really stand him, gave him free coffee because he knew Elle and Adam – and then had developed into something...else. Sylar had realised first. He preferred not to think about that day; it had been very embarrassing. Peter had realised the day after when he read Sylar's mind. Dammit, why did he have to copy _every _power he came across? His life would be so much simpler without being in love with Sylar. And he didn't even know why he called him that!

_Maybe I should just take Mohinder up on his offer_, Sylar thought sadly. _He _has _been a bit depressed ever since Maya dumped him. What he saw in that girl I don't know..._

Peter's eyes went cold. Dammit. He was not going to take that. He jumped over the counter, something that turned out to be not as simple as Monica made it seem.

Sylar, surprised at his sudden move, went to grab him, keeping him upright. As is probably painfully obvious, they found themselves in each other's arms.

Then they were kissing. The other patrons of the diner looked on in amusement. Finally, went through a lot of their minds.

And then they remembered.

"At least now I know why you call me Sylar," he whispered as they broke apart. "Although the reason I would prefer to forget." He grinned. "And why I called my diner what I did."

Peter was thinking. Sylar knew this because he had on his 'thinking face.' "Now I know why I have that irrational fear of psychics," he said after a moment. "And why I can't help hugging Monty whenever I see him." He looked up. "And why we both took that Arthurian legend class."

They grinned at each other. Sylar threw the cloth in his hand over his shoulder. "Luke, do you mind manning the counter for...awhile? I need to go take care of something."

Luke pulled the cloth off his head. "Sure, boss." Finally his boss had stopped mopping around all day and had actually _done _something about the Peter Problem. Maybe he'd get a raise.

"Come on, Luke!" Nathan yelled from the other end of the counter. "Cup of coffee! Snap to it!"

Elle smacked him on the back of the head á la Jethro Gibbs. "I can't believe you want coffee! Do you realise what that does to your stomach?"

"I'm not taking any shit from a pregnant lady," Nathan said, glaring at her while rubbing his head.

"Watch your mouth," Adam said quietly. "There are children." They all looked around the diner, spotting Lyle, Claire, Jackie and Zach sniggering in the corner, and then down at Elle's swollen belly.

"Sorry," Nathan said, truly apologetic. "What do you think they're doing up there?" he added, changing the subject very unsubtly.

Adam gave him a Look. "Do you really want to know?"

Nathan thought. Elle gasped. "You have to think about that?"

He blushed. "Shut up."

They were lying on Sylar's bed. "You realise what they're thinking, right?" Peter asked.

Sylar rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be a mind reader to know. They have such dirty minds..."

Peter looked over at him.

Sylar kissed him.

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**Remember that this is an alternate reality where Arthur **_**never married **_**Guinevere so a lot of things are different. Yes, these changes affect a lot of things, to my mind. So there. **

**Review, please. **


	31. Epilogue: Aftermath

**Author's Note: This is the LAST CHAPTER. I know. I am a little tearful, myself. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I loved writing it. And now to my other very neglected stories...I'm coming, babies, stop shouting so...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Merlin. Because if I did...well, that would be telling.**

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"I wonder what life is like in the future," Arthur said. He gazed over at Merlin, lying beside him in bed.

"Probably much the same," Merlin said sleepily. He yawned and in the universally acknowledged if-someone-near-you-yawns-you-immediately-want-to-yawn-as-well way Arthur followed suit. "Although apparently filled with showers and something called the TV."

"I wonder if magic will still exist," Arthur said a moment later. "Or Dragons. I hope Dragons still exist." He grinned cheekily. "I like Dragons."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You only like Dragons because their word is Law. And that's only because they're big and look scary and thus people are scared to mess with them."

Arthur nodded. "What's not to like?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. That was Arthur for you.

Arthur, being King and friends with two very large Dragons, could pretty much do anything he wanted. So he legalised gay marriage and married Merlin two days later (it would have been one day later but Arthur need Binky by his side and Lancelot hadn't returned him yet). Surprisingly there was a sudden increase in same sex marriages. Arthur felt quite proud of himself. Merlin reminded him that he was only King of one country. Arthur reminded that he had the most powerful sorcerer _in the world _as his consort, was friends with two Dragons and counted two immortals as his personal friends to boot. Merlin said, "Oh."

They did not adopt Mordred, who had started to hang around the castle in case such a situation presented itself. So he went to live with Morgana and bugged people with his mind reading talents. Eventually he settled down with a nice Druid girl.

Gwen and Lancelot had their first fight after Arthur sent a very angry message to them about kidnapping the royal horse, Binky. Then they realised that they were having their first fight and it ended very quickly. The author would like her readers to fill in the blanks with their far more creative minds.

Morgana enjoyed being a Dragon. After all people take you _much more _seriously when you are several feet bigger than they are. Being able to breathe fire helped too. She decided she wanted to discover the world and dragged Sparky (no one ever found out his true name – there were rumours that Mordred knew but he never said a word) along for the ride. Eventually they settled down. One of their many offspring discovered the hidden Asian Dragon race thus leading to much procreation. Dragons still exist but are not used as airplanes, they would like me to point out.

Uther abdicated quite willingly (the author realises she probably should have said this earlier but oh well) and went to live with some monks who taught him how to harness his inner cheese. He never went hungry...although if an autopsy had been done then it would have discovered that he died of starvation. The monks would have said he had missed the entire point. But that was Uther through and through.

Gaius, who had told Uther about the monks, went to live in a small cottage in the woods. He became the local apothecary and eventually died of old age, surrounded by many friends and some old enemies.

Rachel and Galahad went on holiday. They are still on holiday, according to the author's sources.

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**And that's the end. Eek. I can't believe I actually **_**finished **_***sniffles* I'm going to miss this...**

**Review, please. **


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